


In Ivy and In Twine

by rubblerousing



Series: A Dance Inconsolably Slow [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-19
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-16 15:15:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 32,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/540842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubblerousing/pseuds/rubblerousing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fill for <a href="http://glee-angst-meme.livejournal.com/31600.html?thread=17470576">this prompt</a> on GAM. A semi-AU. Kurt and Finn hate the idea of soulmates, mostly because neither of them know the name of theirs. But all their friends are a little obsessed, and decide to try to find Kurt's soulmate for him. What they find instead is Cooper Anderson, who says if Kurt doesn't visit a mysteriously ill Blaine in the hospital soon, they both could be in danger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Kurt stared at his own reflection in the little mirror in his locker. He had dark marks beneath his eyes, and he was paler than usual, but he really did feel better than he had all the past week. He could stand, he could walk, he could get himself out of the house and all the way to school. It was an improvement.

When someone called his name from behind he jumped. He turned to face Miss Pillsbury, who smiled at him a little nervously. “I’m so happy to see you back at school,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Kurt croaked out from his sore throat. “It was just one of those cold/flu things.”

She nodded sympathetically, but took a step backward so as not to breathe his air. “And winter is only just beginning, you poor thing. Did you get a flu shot?”

Kurt nodded. “But they never work.”

“Well, drink lots of orange juice. And keep washing those hands!” She laughed, but Kurt didn’t. He just nodded again. “Maybe you should spend the long weekend in bed.”

He almost asked her what she was talking about, but before he said anything he managed to remember Thanksgiving was tomorrow. No school. He should have just stayed home. There was no point in going to school for just one, random Wednesday.

He mumbled something about agreeing with Miss Pillsbury and she happily wandered away. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand in the hallway. He wanted to sit.

He’d taken about two steps toward his last class of the day when Rachel rushed to his side and locked an arm with his. She talked a mile a minute, and was practically dragging him down the hallway, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything. “Okay,” he said mostly to himself, pulling away from her to lean against the wall. “You are definitely too loud and too fast and too much all at once.” He covered his eyes with his hands.

“You’re not better at all,” she scolded. “How are we supposed to have the best Thanksgiving ever if you’re half dead?”

“I didn’t know we were supposed to be having the best Thanksgiving ever,” Kurt whined back from between his wrists.

“Well, we are. My dads are out of town for a romantic getaway to celebrate one of their birthdays, and --”

“Gross,” Kurt sighed.

“Why gross?”

“I don’t approve of romance.” He dropped his hands to his sides and frowned at the floor. “Just the thought of it makes me feel exponentially worse.”

“Whatever,” she hit him in the shoulder. “In any case, it means I’m coming to your house for a Hud... Hum...sels... Berry...” she paused, thinking about it. “Hudmel-Berry Thanksgiving! Obviously the best Thanksgiving ever.”

“Okay, but don’t kiss Finn in front of me all night. Or sit near him. Or look at him, at all, while I’m in the room.”

She rolled her eyes and draped one of his arms across her shoulders. “Come on, weakling.” She helped him across the hall to his classroom and deposited him in a seat in the back row, closest to the door. With quick precision she poked her hand into an open pocket in his backpack and removed his car keys. “I’ll come get you later. I’ll drive.” She grinned.

“Later? Tonight? Are you coming over tonight? It’s not Thanksgiving tonight.” He groaned and rubbed his head. “Why is everything so confusing?”

“We’re having a sleepover tonight,” Rachel said simply. “I’ll see if anyone else wants to come. Bye!” She bounded out of the room before he could refuse.

Some hours later, he found himself in his pajamas, watching sappy movies on the floor, surrounded by most of the Glee club and ten bags of popcorn. He still felt like he was dying, but no one else seemed to notice.

Tina was practically sobbing over the movie, which Kurt had stopped paying attention to about the moment it started playing. He just stared, blankly, at the screen.

“It’s just so sad, and so sweet,” Tina said.

“So sweet and so sad,” Brittany agreed.

Rachel entered the room with her own bag of butter free popcorn and plopped herself between Kurt and Finn. “God,” she said, “your parents are so cute.”

“What did they do?” Kurt and Finn asked in unison, both with a tone that meant they didn’t actually care.

“They’re just so happy together. They act like teenagers in puppy love. It’s so cute that they finally found each other.” She paused, and then amended, “Not that I’m saying they’re old.”

“It’s good it took them so long,” Finn said with a frown. “Actual teenagers who find their soulmates aren’t cute, they’re like... drooling, brain dead idiots.”

“And neither of us would be alive now if they met as teenagers,” Kurt pointed out, not really sure why he was defending Finn’s bad mood, or even why he was speaking. His head and throat were throbbing with pain.

“Yeah, yeah, everything happens for a reason. I just think it’s adorable when soulmates find each other.”

“Me too,” Tina sniffed.

Finn mumbled something negative to himself.

“Just because you two don’t know who your soulmates are doesn’t mean you need to be so grumpy about it. Maybe it’s even better for you. It could be anyone. Maybe you’ll just see them someday, and _know_.” She was gesticulating now, and looking starry eyed at some imaginary, invisible person only she could see.

“No,” Kurt and Finn said together.

“Maybe you’re _each other’s_ soulmates!” Brittany yelled suddenly.

Everyone made a noise at this, varying from amused to disgusted. “Ew!” Kurt said. “They wouldn’t... inbreed us. That must be against the rules.”

“You’re not actually brothers, maybe it’s not against the rules,” Santana said.

“Can we stop talking about this?” Finn asked. “It’s stupid. Soulmates are stupid. Look at how many millions of people aren’t married to their soulmates, and they’re perfectly happy.”

“But not _completely_ happy,” Rachel smiled at him. “Whatever, I’m in just as bad of a position as you. My soulmate has a Chinese name. He probably actually lives in China. What am I supposed to do, go to China and look for him?”

“Is it Mike Chang?” Mike Chang asked.

She smiled at him. “No.”

“They wouldn’t put you with someone you couldn’t find,” Tina told her. “He’s probably around here somewhere. Want to come with me to Asian club on Monday?”

Before she could reply, Finn interrupted. “Who’s ‘they’? Seriously, who is it? The government? A psychic? A magic fairy? God? Give me a break. Rachel and I are together, we’re in love, we’re happy, and we aren’t each other’s soulmates. Who cares? We’re happy, right?”

“Of course!” Rachel took his hand.

“Stop,” Kurt snapped, and she let go.

“Of course we are.”

“Mine’s --” Tina started, but Finn cut her off.

“Can we please stop talking about this? It’s stupid. It’s like believing in magic, or Santa, or something.”

“What?” Brittany asked.

“They make a website to find your missing soulmates, you know,” Mike said. “It’s practically impossible that neither of the two would know the name of the other.”

Tina gasped. “Fi--” she began, but saw Rachel shaking her head at her, with a sort of death glare, so she changed her words. “Kurt! You could join it! Your other half is probably looking for you. That’s so romantic.”

Kurt somehow found the energy to turn his eyes to look at her. “No.”

“Look,” Mike said, holding up his phone. “I have the site right here. It’s free to join.”

The girls all gasped and grabbed for the phone. “Kurt!”

“Stop,” Kurt said again, feebly.

Finn stood up, popcorn falling from his lap. “You guys are all insane. I’m going to bed.” He stomped toward the door. No one stopped him. He turned around. “Do _not_ put my name in that thing. I would never forgive any of you.” He made sure to give a pointed look to Rachel and Kurt before leaving.

There was an awkward, silent moment in his wake, but Rachel was the first to break it. “He hates this stuff. He thinks it’s like... being persuaded. Like, of course you’ll fall in love with someone you think you’re _supposed_ to fall in love with. But he thinks you’ll realize eventually that you were just... caught up in the idea. That it’s not real.” She paused. “Kurt, I’m looking you up.”

“No!” Kurt tried to yell, but barely said at all. “I don’t want to know.”

“How could you not want to know? You can still date whoever you want. It’s just something to keep in the back of your mind.”

“Do it,” Mike said.

“Do it,” Brittany said.

“Oh my God, do it,” Tina said, peering at the phone over Rachel’s shoulder.

Kurt didn’t have enough energy to argue anymore. He didn’t have enough energy to storm out of the room like Finn had. He just sort of slumped against the couch and closed his eyes and waited for his destiny to be revealed to him.

They were quiet for a long time. He supposed they were waiting for it to load, or whatever. But then they were still quiet. He opened his eyes. The four of them were looking at the screen, and then looked up at him in unison. They all had a weird look on their faces, that Kurt was too sick to decipher.

“What?” he finally asked.

Rachel shook her head and pushed a button that made the screen go black. She handed it back to Mike. “You’re not on it.”

“Oh,” he said, and let it sink in. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. He expected to hear some random name that meant nothing to him, and dreaded hearing the name of someone he already knew. But he didn’t expect nothing. Now the last chance he had to learn the name had fizzled out. “Oh.”

He remembered being a little boy and learning about soulmates. The boys at school talked about them, but at first Kurt didn’t know what they meant. When they were young it was a simple concept: everyone was going to get married to someone when they grew up. It was an invisible person that you’d meet when you grew up, who didn’t matter when you were young. And when Kurt was about 12 or 13, the boys at school brought it up again, but they joked about it and said they hoped they’d meet their soulmates soon, because it would be an automatic passage into a girl’s bra. They made fun of boys who were paired with other boys, and girls who were paired with girls.

He remembered going home and finally asking his father what it all meant. He remembered the sadness in Burt’s eyes when he said Kurt wasn’t born in a hospital. He didn’t get a birth certificate until he was 2 days old, and by then it was too late. “But don’t worry,” Burt had said. “It happens to a lot of people. Not everyone can get to a hospital on time. It doesn’t mean you don’t have a soulmate, it just means you don’t know their name. And trust me, a name doesn’t tell you a whole lot. It doesn’t really mean anything.”

When he was about 15 he decided to look up information about soulmates on the Internet. Not knowing his soulmate’s name hadn’t really bothered him until that point, but boredom and Google could lead to crazy things. He learned about the website that would help connect soulmates who didn’t know the right names. Statistically, it said, if you don’t know your soulmate’s name, your soulmate probably knows yours, and might be looking for you. But you had to be 16 to join it, and he was too nervous to fake it. He wasn’t ready to know. So he clicked the X, and explored different links.

That was when he found out about all the awful things that can come from having a soulmate. People who didn’t believe, like Finn, but so fervently that they threw riots and protests. People who broke the windows out of the NICU ward of a hospital in Los Angeles in the ‘80s because they were so angry. People who were bullied because their whole school found out their soulmate was the same gender as they were. People who killed themselves over how angry and hopeless it made them. People who swore they met their soulmates and didn’t fall in love with them. People who said it was all a conspiracy. The unusually high ratio of a second soulmate mysteriously dying after the first one did. People who said it was all a lie. And even more people who believed in it.

It was almost enough to break Kurt’s spirit. He almost didn’t believe it, and he certainly didn’t _want_ to believe it. He decided to stop thinking about it altogether, to just live his life. To try to fall in love naturally, with anyone he wanted, like people were supposed to. But then his father met Carole. Kurt himself had even helped it to happen. He didn’t know what it all would mean. He didn’t know he was helping soulmates find each other.

And then Finn moved in, and it turned out Finn didn’t know his soulmate’s name either, which was weird, but good. It seemed overly coincidental, but Kurt was glad to not be the only one who didn’t know. Maybe not knowing was what made Finn so angry about it. Maybe not. Finn and Kurt went to their parent’s wedding, and smiled, and were happy for them, but they were wary.

But Kurt always kept that website in the back of his mind. He always meant to use it, some day. Maybe after he had finished college. Would he be ready to know then? All he knew was that he wasn’t ready yet, that movie night before Thanksgiving, when he was sick. When Rachel put his name in and Brittany, Santana, Tina, and Mike watched.

He barely noticed as his friends made excuses about having to go home because it was late; or as Rachel said goodnight and went to sneak into Finn’s room. Kurt thought he said goodnight back, and “Happy Thanksgiving” to the others, but he wasn’t sure. He just fell asleep on the sofa, numb.

He half woke up again around five in the morning, when Rachel tiptoed back into the living room and lay down on some blankets on the floor, so that Burt and Carole would find her there, and not in Finn’s room, when they woke.

He had no idea that Rachel and Finn had just done something, behind his back, that would change his life forever.


	2. Chapter 2

He didn’t really wake up again until late into the afternoon. Finn, Rachel, Burt, and Carole were all laughing and smashing dishes together obnoxiously loudly. It was the smell of food -- of roasting turkey and a lot of vegetarian side dishes for Rachel, cooking in the oven. It was comforting, despite that Kurt’s body ached and shook with chills.

He sat up slowly, resigned to the fact that his flu had returned completely. Somehow, beneath all the noise his family and Rachel were making in the kitchen, he heard a familiar ring of music coming from far away. It was his cell phone, which was all the way upstairs on his bedside table. He’d put it there yesterday, when Rachel dragged him and his bag to his room, and demanded he put on pajamas for movie night. He knew he’d never make it upstairs in time to answer it, so he let it go.

He wobbled to the kitchen and deduced from the look on everyone’s face that he looked awful. “Okay,” he said before any of them could say anything. “I’ll go shower and get dressed.”

“Dinner’s almost ready, Kurt,” Burt called after him as he shuffled to the stairs. “Maybe some good food will make you feel better.”

He saw his phone blinking by his bed while he gathered clothes. He just didn’t care.

He took a long shower, but when he felt like he was going to pass out, he decided it was a good time to get out. He had to lay in bed for a few minutes before he could get dressed, biting his tongue to stay conscious and waiting for his heart to stop racing. Okay, he admitted to himself, something was wrong.

He finally felt well enough to get dressed, and did so before anyone came to check on him and found him naked. Sure enough, as soon as he pulled on a second argyle sock, Finn barged in and offered to help him down the stairs.

“Are you --” Finn asked, but stopped when Kurt’s phone rang again.

“I’m fine,” Kurt answered. “Let’s eat.”

“Aren’t you going to answer that?” Finn looked at the phone.

“No,” Kurt shook his head. “No. It’s Thanksgiving. It’s dinner time. I’ll call them back later.”

Finn looked at the phone and then at Kurt, and then at the phone again, and back to Kurt. “Okay,” he said finally.

“Okay...” Kurt said slowly. “Let’s go.”

When Kurt sat across from Rachel at the table she gave him a weird look, too. She smiled nervously at him and looked back and forth from him to Finn.

Kurt sighed. “What is going on?”

“Nothing,” Rachel said, spooning potatoes onto her plate.

“Tell me!”

“Tell you what?” Burt asked, entering the room with Carole.

“Nothing!” Finn said. “What are you talking about? Is hallucinating part of your flu?”

Kurt tried not to blush and dropped the subject. Fine. Maybe he was crazy.

“Do you want to go to the doctor, Kurt? I could take you to the hospital, if you want. Get you checked out.” Carole smiled at him. He wondered if she was nervous about him, too.

“No,” Kurt said. “I’m fine.”

He passed dishes around the table, ate and laughed and tried to be normal. Kurt really did feel better after eating. He was tired, but he could actually concentrate on the conversation.

When Carole left to get her pumpkin pie from the oven, Rachel seemed to pause and listen to something. “Is that your phone, Kurt?”

Kurt sighed. He was sure she was screwing with him. She and Finn must have something to do with the caller. But he was too sick to run up and down the stairs. He wanted them to just confess. “I guess so.”

“Who would call you tonight?” Burt asked.

“Maybe I should go get it,” Finn said, which was weird. All three of them frowned at him.

“Why?” Kurt asked.

Finn shrugged. “Maybe it’s important, if they’re calling tonight. Maybe it’s an emergency.”

“No,” Rachel told him, and then tried to save face when she saw Kurt staring at her. “I mean, no, I doubt it’s anything so bad as that. It’s probably... Mercedes, or something. Maybe she wants pie.”

“Everyone’s going to want some of this pie,” Carole called from the kitchen.

“Alright,” Kurt said finally, slowly getting to his feet. “I’m going upstairs, to get the phone. I’m not going to get there in time, but I’m going to call them back, and find out what’s going on. And then I have a feeling I’m going to yell at both of you.”

They just smiled up at him, while Burt looked as confused as Kurt felt. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He didn’t recognize the number, which made their weird conspiracy even weirder. But he called it back, completely unaware of what he was getting himself into.

The other line barely rang before someone immediately answered it. There was a static, scratchy noise like he was connecting with another world. And then someone said, “Kurt?”

“Um,” Kurt said. “Yes?”

“My name is Cooper. Your friend Rachel gave me your number.”

“Why?” Kurt began to ask, but stopped midway through the word. For the first time since he’d woken up that day, he remembered movie night, and everyone staring at the phone, and him, and telling him he wasn’t on that website. They were lying. He felt the whole world go out from under him. He didn’t want to just _talk_ to this guy, like it was a normal thing to do. He wasn’t ready. His thumb moved toward the button that would end the call.

“Don’t hang up,” Cooper said. “It’s not me. It’s my brother.”

Kurt didn’t know what to say. He was just trying to remember to breathe. “Oh,” he said eventually, without thinking.

“Kurt, I’ve been trying to get ahold of you, for him, for two months now. I’m so glad you called. I was getting desperate.”

He took a breath. He’d actually forgotten to breathe for a few seconds. He stared at the argyle on his feet and his vision went blurry. But it wasn’t because of the flu, this time. It was because of the phone call.

“What’s his name?” he asked finally, afraid to say it very loud. It was almost all he wanted to know.

There was a pause. “I thought you might not know. It’s... his name is Blaine. Blaine Anderson. He’s sixteen, relatively handsome, has a 3.9 GPA and sings a lot of really annoying pop songs when he’s in a good mood.”

Kurt sort of laughed, but he really wanted to burst into tears. He put his free hand to his eyes.

“Anyway, he’s sick, Kurt. The doctors don’t know exactly what’s wrong with him. He was always a sick little kid, but he always pulled through, you know. He always seemed to have a cold. And that’s how it started this time, but he kept getting worse and worse. We took him to the hospital, but it didn’t help. He sleeps all the time, and it’s hard to wake him up. He can hardly keep any food down, so they put him on an IV, but now he’s practically wasting away. I thought of you a while ago. I thought, maybe if you could just come talk to him...”

Kurt shook his head. He felt awful. “I can’t.”

“But...”

“I can’t just show up there and try to save his life. I don’t even know him, and I don’t... have that kind of power.” He imagined a room full of extended family clutching rosaries and hovering over them in a drab hospital room, waiting for a miracle.

Cooper sighed. “I was always a jerk to him when we were younger. And then I moved out, and left him there alone, even though I knew our parents weren’t much better. But I’ve been sitting with him here more than they have. I guess it’s because I feel so guilty.”

Now Kurt felt worse than ever. He’d initially thought Rachel and Finn convinced someone to prank call him. Now he was in the middle of a stranger’s guilty soliloquy, while simultaneously trying to accept the fact that he was simply being handed a soulmate on a silver platter, except that the soulmate was also apparently dying. It was a little much for someone with the flu. He was going to start breaking down if it didn’t stop soon.

Cooper was still rambling on. Kurt tuned back in when he said, “What would it hurt, just to try to talk to him? Just once?”

Kurt sat up straight, ready to end the conversation. “You’re right.”

“I am? Will you come? Rachel told me you live in Lima. We’re at the University hospital in Columbus. It’s like an hour and a half away.”

“I...” Kurt said, not knowing what he was saying. “Okay.”

“I could come pick you up.”

“Isn’t it after visiting hours?” Kurt asked, not knowing why he thought of something logical, all of a sudden.

“I don’t care. I’ll tell them you’re family. They’ll let you in. I have a way with the night nurses.”

“I can...” He stopped. He was in a daze. “I can drive myself.”

“You’ll come tonight?”

He would have to ask his father. His father would certainly say no. He couldn’t explain who it was or why he was going, and Burt would never let him drive as sick as he was, as late as it was, on a holiday. “Sure.”

It was like something had disconnected between his brain and his tongue. Cooper thanked him a million times and finally Kurt hung up.

He went back down the stairs slowly, dazed, and sat at the table. It was almost like nothing had happened. His family and Rachel were down to the crusts of their pie. Carole scolded him that his had gone cold.

“Sorry,” he said.

Rachel stole a glance at him, but said nothing. She just joked with Burt, even though she knew what had happened. He looked at Finn, who avoided looking back. Finn knew, too. Rachel must have told him when she went into his room that night. She must have called Cooper then, while Finn sat next to her. He was furious with them both. So furious that he couldn’t do anything but eat his pie in silence.

When they had all finished he said, “I have to go out.”

Of course Burt and Carole shot the idea down, and even Rachel and Finn looked confused, like they didn’t think putting Kurt in touch with Cooper meant he had to go out at eleven at night on Thanksgiving when he was sick.

“Where do you plan on going?” Burt asked. “Nothing’s open.”

Kurt just stared at Rachel. This was all her fault. She could think of an answer. “Oh...” she stammered. “It’s... it’s Mercedes.”

“Yeah,” Finn agreed.

“That was Mercedes on the phone, right?” she asked, wanting Kurt to at least nod. He didn’t move. “Sam dumped her for no apparent reason and she’s heartbroken, especially because... Thanksgiving is such a romantic holiday.”

“... Yeah,” Finn agreed.

“It is?” Carole asked.

“We should try to cheer her up. We’ll bring her some ice cream from the gas station. I’m sure the gas stations are open.” Rachel stood, already ready to go. Finn followed her, and Kurt stood last.

“Be back in an hour,” Burt said, obviously angry with them.

“No,” Kurt said. “We can’t.”

Rachel looked at him. “Mercedes is really, really upset.”

“Fine, be back at one. If you aren’t here by 1:01 I will ground all three of you until spring break. Don’t think I can’t,” Burt pointed at Rachel.

She smiled. “We promise.”

They piled into Kurt’s car. Finn drove, and Kurt stretched out in the back, fully intending to sleep the whole way. After he turned the car on, Finn asked where they were going.

“Ohio State University hospital in Columbus,” Kurt mumbled.

“That’s almost two hours away!”

“We’ll get there by 1:01,” Kurt said. “We just won’t be back by then. And this is all your fault, so don’t try to blame me.”

“I just... Rachel thought it would be good for you.” He pulled out of the driveway and made his way toward the highway. “He’s sick, right? You’re sick. We thought it might be connected, or something.”

“You don’t even believe in it, Finn!” Kurt yelled, not knowing where he found the energy to do so.

“But I’m worried about you, okay?” Finn yelled back.

Rachel intervened. “I saw on that website that Cooper was looking for you because... because Blaine is sick, and I thought you might both get better if you meet.”

Kurt rolled his eyes even though he knew she couldn’t see him.

“And what if he dies, Kurt?” she asked. “You could... I don’t know, be in danger. They say that it’s possible.”

“No, no,” Finn said. “Kurt is not going to die.”

He stopped listening to them then. He wanted to sleep, but when he closed his eyes he felt tears roll down his cheeks, tears he didn’t even know were there before. And he was acutely awake, behind his closed eyes, for the whole ride.


	3. Chapter 3

Luckily, Finn took initiative and asked enough nurses and random hospital employees to find the right part of the building to go to. Kurt and Rachel wordlessly followed him. They went past an empty gift shop playing sad jazz, the pediatric ward, and through the cafeteria where one solitary doctor ate a late Thanksgiving dinner alone. They went up to the top floor and back down to the first. In the end they found the right place, and Cooper waiting for them, somewhere in the middle.

Kurt knew he recognized Cooper from something, somewhere, but he couldn’t think of what. He felt like maybe it was a movie. Or maybe he just looked like someone he once saw in a movie. They all introduced themselves politely, awkwardly, and then Cooper, Rachel and Finn fell silent and stared at Kurt expectantly.

“Am I... supposed to just go in?” Kurt asked, gesturing to the closed door to his left without actually looking at it. It stood there, glaringly, in his peripheral vision. It might as well have had a neon sign above it with a blinking arrow that said, “He’s in here.”

“Sure,” Cooper nodded his encouragement. “Go ahead. No one’s coming to check on him again until the morning, unless there’s some kind of emergency.”

“Is some kind of emergency likely to happen?” Kurt asked, approaching hysterics at the thought.

“No, no, of course not,” Cooper said. “I just meant to say, if there is an emergency an alarm will go off and doctors will come running and... you’ll have advance warning to sort of... run away and hide, because you’re not supposed to be here. But don’t worry! No one knows anything about it but us, and nothing’s going to happen. No one will find out.”

Kurt was not very relieved by this. He nodded a little stiffly but otherwise didn’t move.

“Go ahead,” Finn said eventually, patting him on the shoulder for support. “As quick as you can.”

Kurt frowned at him. “Why?”

“Just... to get the weird first meeting part over with. And,” he added, more quietly, “because it’s already past one o’clock.”

Rachel looked up at Finn, worried. “Can your dad actually ground me until spring break?”

Kurt tuned them out. He worked up the courage to look at the door handle of the room that awaited him, but still didn’t move.

“He’s not even awake,” he heard Cooper saying somewhere in the distance of real life. “He only wakes up for a few hours every day, usually in the afternoons.”

“Can’t you shake him, or jump on his bed, or scream in his ear and wake him up?” Rachel asked.

“No,” Cooper said. “Nothing works. We’ve tried.” He looked at Kurt again. “But he’ll know you’re there. He’ll hear you. Just say hello to him.”

Kurt inhaled suddenly and wondered when the last time he’d done that was. “Fine,” he said. Without thinking about it for another second, he left the bright hallway and attempted to quietly barge into the dark room that Blaine was sleeping in. He thought he heard Rachel wish him good luck before he shut the door again behind him.

He had to wait a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He heard the noises of medical equipment before he could see it. Nothing cliche like a beeping heart monitor, just the hum of a lot of electricity. And he could see the little red and green lights on them, sometimes blinking, which probably meant something.

Eventually the outline of a window with drawn curtains, a TV, and a bed came into focus. There was a lump of an indistinguishable body on the bed, mostly covered by a blanket. And there was a big comfortable chair next to the bed, implying this patient had visitors who were going to have to sit there for a long time.

Kurt sat in it. He forced himself to look at Blaine, who was lying on his back, sleeping apparently peacefully, with long eyelashes curled against his cheeks. Kurt didn’t know what to think, or what to say, or what to do, or how he felt. If pressed, he might say he felt like his heart was swelling up disproportionately large and was about to come out of his throat.

He decided to take Blaine’s hand in his own. It seemed like the thing you were supposed to do with sleeping people in hospitals. Not really something you did with a stranger, but Kurt felt like he had the right to claim Blaine’s hand if he wanted to. Maybe he had more right to it than anyone else in the whole world. They had a connection. They were connected. Even if someone else, or something else, had decided it for them. It was true.

Blaine didn’t move when Kurt took his hand, but Kurt didn’t expect him to. And Kurt didn’t say anything for a long time. After a while he could tune out the hum of the machines hooked up to Blaine and could hear him breathing instead. A slow, steady, sleep breathing.

Kurt licked his lips before speaking, finally, quietly. “I just realized,” he whispered, “that your brother is in the Free Credit Rating Today commercials. I love those commercials.”

He glanced sidelong at Blaine, who made no change or response whatsoever. But what had he expected him to do, laugh?

Kurt frowned at himself. “Sorry. That wasn’t a good first thing to say. I don’t know what to say. I can’t decide if it’s worse or better that you can’t say anything at all.” He paused, and decided to start over. “I’m Kurt. Hummel. I don’t know how familiar you are with my name, but believe me, I only heard yours for the first time tonight. And I’m already here. I’m here,” he said again. He didn’t know why he said it again, but when he did, Blaine moved. He rolled to his side to face Kurt, and pulled Kurt’s hand closer to his chest. He held Kurt’s hand tight. Instead of passively letting his hand be held, like he’d done a minute ago, he gripped Kurt’s now like he was never going to let go. But he was still asleep.

Kurt couldn’t ignore that his heart had skipped a beat when it happened. He had to sit forward in his chair now, in an uncomfortable, awkward position so that he didn’t pull his hand free from Blaine, but he didn’t mind. “I didn’t believe in this stuff before, you know,” he said. “Or I don’t know if I believed in it or not, but I didn’t really care. Most of the people I know in happy relationships are with people who aren’t the right ones. What’s the fun in being told who to love? Where’s the spontaneity? Isn’t that what makes life good?”

Of course, Blaine didn’t answer. He just held Kurt’s hand like his life depended on it.

“My friends think if I don’t help you get better, and you die, that I’ll die, too. Because I have a cold. Or the flu. Maybe that’s why I came, at first. I guess I’d rather not die, you know, if I had any say in it. But your totally handsome brother thinks I’ll save you just by saying hello. But I can’t, Blaine. I can’t save you. You can’t want to live just to meet me. You need to want to live for yourself. If you can’t get better, because you have some awful mystery disease that won’t let you, then that’s fine. But if there’s anything in the world that’s going to convince you to get better, it shouldn’t be me. I’m really boring, for one thing. I mean, the most exciting thing about me is my closet, and you’d probably get bored of talking about that after a few hours. But mostly, I just don’t... want the responsibility. What if you fall into a coma, or die, when you find out I’m not good enough, or smart enough, or cute enough, or not the person you thought I’d be at all? And I can’t promise if you wake up right now, and look at me, and talk to me, that it will work. I can’t promise we’ll fall in love. It might not be an automatic thing. I can’t just marry you tomorrow. I don’t know you. But...”

He paused. This wasn’t exactly the best speech to give a possibly dying person. If Cooper heard him he would probably throw him out of the hospital. He was doing the opposite of what he was supposed to be doing. But something about the situation made him want to be honest more than anything else. “But,” he began again, “I would like to. I would like to know you, and at least be your friend.”

He looked at the door. He knew Finn would be pacing the halls in impatient fury. Or maybe he’d already called Burt and explained everything, thinking Burt would forgive them if he knew the truth. That seemed like a horrible thing that Finn would probably do. But Kurt didn’t worry as much as he otherwise would have. He’d fallen into a weird peace, lulled into it by Blaine’s breathing.

“I hope you believe me,” Kurt said in conclusion, “when I say that I have to go now, but I wish I didn’t. I wish I could stay with you.”

He might have imagined it, but it almost seemed like Blaine squeezed his hand a little harder, and tried to pull him a little bit closer, like he was trying to pull him into the bed or into his own body, but didn’t have the ability to accomplish it beyond a fraction of a millimeter.

Kurt intended to let go, to pull away and leave the room. But when he actually went to do it he found that he couldn’t. Not that he literally couldn’t, but he morally couldn’t. He knew that Blaine didn’t want him to go, and what if something awful happened and he never saw him again after that night? It was like Blaine had plainly said, “I need you here, Kurt,” and so Kurt couldn’t make himself move or let go.

So he sat there, sometimes looking at Blaine’s eyelashes and sometimes looking at their fingers intertwined, until someone softly knocked on the door and opened it a crack to peer in. It was Finn. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but we really have to go.”

“And our parents usually come early in the morning,” came Cooper’s voice from somewhere. “So, he’s right. You should probably go before they get here.”

Kurt stood, but Blaine still held his hand tight. “I’m sorry,” Kurt whispered to him, almost wanting to burst into tears over how unfair it was and how mean he felt for pulling away from him finally. “I’ll come back again.”

“You can come back any time,” Cooper said. “Any time our parents aren’t here. Any night, really. They always leave around 5 or 6.”

Kurt nodded at him, and rushed out of the room as quickly as he could, because he couldn’t last in there a second longer. He wanted to run straight into the elevator, and then to the car, and then into his bed for the rest of his life, to think everything over and attempt to figure it out. Without saying anything, Finn and Rachel followed him.

From behind Cooper thanked him for coming. Kurt turned to look at him, just for a moment. “I didn’t help anything,” he said.

“I’m sure you did,” Cooper smiled.

Finn and Rachel attempted to ask questions on the way back home, but Kurt couldn’t answer them. He wasn’t sure what had actually happened himself. He stayed mostly quiet in the backseat, watching two half moon imprints from Blaine’s fingernails fade out of his palm, only visible every time they went under a streetlight.


	4. Chapter 4

At home, Burt was red and furious. Finn hadn’t told him, at least not yet. Finn had the common sense to periodically text him, to say they were safe and fine but couldn’t come home yet. But this courtesy didn’t seem to help their situation. They were grounded “for the rest of their lives.” Finn and Kurt went to their respective rooms, and Rachel was banished to the living room. Kurt doubted she’d have the courage to try to sneak into FInn’s that night. She looked genuinely punished. But Kurt barely noticed his father yelling at him. Now that he knew there was something vastly more important in the world that being grounded over a long weekend, it couldn’t really faze him.

He went up the stairs slowly, but about halfway up he realized he didn’t have to. He’d almost forgotten he was sick, because now he felt better. He almost felt normal. Not emotionally or psychologically, of course, but nothing in his body hurt anymore.

He meant to just go to sleep, but his phone blinked where he’d left it on his nightstand. He had the distinct feeling, that he tried to ignore, that Blaine probably up and died as soon as Kurt left the hospital, and Cooper probably called and left a message saying “now you have 24 hours left to live,” or something equally as ridiculous and morbid.

It was a message from Cooper, but it wasn’t anything bad. It was a picture of Blaine, looking entirely different from the way he’d looked asleep at the hospital. He was awake, obviously, and outside, surrounded by a few friends. They were all dressed in the same uniform, with sharp blue and red blazers. The day was bright, and he wore sunglasses, which was a little disappointing because Kurt still had never seen his eyes. But in that picture, he was smiling brilliantly. It made Kurt happy just to look at him, smiling like that. He couldn’t help but smile back at it, even if it was a little bit sadly. After way too many minutes spent staring at it, Kurt read the text part of Cooper’s message, which just kind of stupidly said, “This is what he usually looks like. He’s the one in the middle.”

Kurt sighed and rolled his eyes. “I got that, thank you,” he said under his breath.

“Boy band?” Kurt sent as a reply.

Almost immediately Cooper sent a response. “Private school. Coming back tomorrow?”

“I can’t. I’m grounded. For the rest of my life. I’ll try again in a few days. How long can parents stay mad?”

“No idea about regular parents. Mine aren’t normal. They’ll hold a grudge against you forever. I could have him call you when he wakes up.”

Kurt had to think about this, and couldn’t really explain why, but had to say, “No.”

“No?”

After racking his brain for the right way to put it, he typed, “I only want to talk to him in real life.”

Cooper didn’t respond. Maybe he was mad at Kurt. But Kurt couldn’t help it. Talking on the phone would only make things awkward. He imagined all the silences and himself eventually asking, “So, do you even remember me being there?” And what if Blaine said no?

He was tired. He needed sleep. The sun was about to shine into his window, and he still hadn’t even taken off his shoes or coat. He wanted to call Mercedes, but he decided he would do it in the morning. Or, whatever part of the day it would be when he woke up again.

It ended up being three in the afternoon when his phone rang, which he had mercifully remembered to turn very quiet before falling asleep, so that Burt might not hear it. As soon as Burt remembered he hadn’t taken their cell phones, he would.

“What’s up?” Mercedes asked before he could wake up enough to say hello.

“I’m asleep,” he mumbled.

“Well, wake up. It’s almost dinner time. Still sick?”

“Um,” Kurt said, sitting up in bed and taking a quick assessment of how his body felt. Still pretty good. “Not really, not anymore.”

“Good,” she said, relieved. “I was really worried about you. You haven’t said anything funny for almost a month.”

“I...” Kurt said defensively, hurt by this statement. “Yes I have. I’m sure I have.”

“Then you were the only one who thought it was funny. Anyway, sorry I missed movie night. My parents said I could probably come to another one. Like tonight.”

“I can’t. Finn and Rachel and I are grounded.”

“Rachel?”

“She’s staying here until her dads get back, and apparently my dad can inflict punishment on her in the interim.”

“That’s... stupid,” she said. “Wait, why are you grounded? You never do anything.”

Kurt took a deep breath. He wasn’t planning on talking to anyone about Blaine, not his father, not even one more word to Finn and Rachel, but he really wanted to tell Mercedes. “It’s a long story.”

“I’m listening.”

“Well--” was all he said before Burt threw the door open and held out a hand.

“Give me the phone.”

“But...” Kurt protested. “Five more minutes.” Not that that would be enough time to say anything at all.

“Now, Kurt.”

He sighed. “I have to go, Mercedes. My phone’s being confiscated.”

“You better find a way to explain this to me soon,” she said. “Send a message through a third party, or something. Write a note and have them hide it in their shoe.”

“I will. I promise. Bye.”

“Bye.”

He looked at the screen for just a second, just enough to push the right button to disconnect the call, but he froze when he saw a new text message, from an unfamiliar number, had come sometime during his sleep.

“I only want to talk to you in real life, too. -Blaine”

Kurt could do nothing but stare at it, his mouth agape, for a moment. Blaine remembered him? Blaine knew what was going on? Did he remember everything Kurt had said the night before? Like, really, really, everything?

His eyes might have popped out of his head and rolled away if Burt didn’t snap at him. “We’re not getting any younger here, kid.”

Kurt almost literally couldn’t move, or even close his mouth. Burt finally snatched the phone out of his son’s hand, which was fine. Nothing could change the fact that Kurt had already seen it.

“This is going with these,” Burt held up two phones, Finn’s and Rachel’s, in his other hand, “and you’re not seeing them again until you’re thirty-five years old.”

Kurt nodded, dazed. “‘Kay.”

“And don’t think that because the three of you are in one house together, that you’ll have a fun grounding. Finn’s repainting the garage, alone. Rachel is mopping and vacuuming every floor in this house, alone. And you...” he paused. “You still sick?”

“Yes,” Kurt lied. “Very.”

“You don’t look sick anymore. Your color is back.”

“I’m... I can’t possibly do anything.”

“You’re going to wash the windows,” Burt decided.

“Which windows?”

“All of them.”

Kurt nodded. “Okay.”

“I think you can do it sitting down,” Burt said, but then squinted and frowned. “You’re not sick anymore.”

“I do feel a little better.”

“Then you’ll do the outsides too.” With that, Burt walked away.

Kurt was confused. His whole life was confusing. “Of what?”

“The windows! Alone!”

Without his phone Kurt had no connection to Cooper or Blaine, and he didn’t dare sneak out of the house and drive all the way to the hospital, at least not for the rest of the weekend. And then on Monday he had to go back to school -- go to classes, sing songs in glee club, and act like his whole world hadn’t been turned upside down in one night and then snatched away from him again as quickly as it had come.

He managed to survive it. The weekend ended with everyone in a bad mood, and Rachel went home. He went to school and saw Mercedes, but he couldn’t tell her there. He only had enough time to really have a conversation with her at lunch, but the McKinley cafeteria seemed too harsh and horrible a place to say Blaine’s name in. He couldn’t tell her about his soulmate surrounded by screaming idiots taking dares to see how much surprise meatloaf they could fit in their mouths.

And he couldn’t talk to her after school either, because the grounding went on and on. Rachel’s dads let her off the hook when they found out the vaguest details, but Finn and Kurt still moped around and couldn’t do anything fun for weeks.

Kurt thought about stealing his phone back, or at least checking his text messages in secret at night while Burt and Carole slept, but he wasn’t sure where his father actually put his phone. He hoped nothing serious had happened to Blaine without his knowledge. But Kurt wasn’t sick anymore. He felt perfectly fine. He hoped that meant Blaine was better, too, but he couldn’t be sure.

He began to wonder if he was being selfish in keeping Blaine a secret from Burt. Maybe Blaine’s condition was more important than Kurt’s feelings. Maybe if Burt knew he would understand and let Kurt keep his phone in case of an emergency. But whenever he thought about bringing it up to Burt and Carole, usually at the dinner table, he couldn’t even begin. He couldn’t say one word.

Christmas was a week away when Burt finally relented. Finn was downright depressed from not seeing his friends outside of school, and Kurt was obviously out of sorts, too. Burt hand delivered their phones to them in their rooms and said, “You’re free,” to them both. “But your curfew is 11:00, school days and weekends. If you ever stay out past that time again, your punishment will be twice as bad as it was this time.”

They promised never to do anything against the rules ever again, and while Kurt thanked him profusely, Finn literally ran out of the house and into his car to get away.

Kurt frantically checked his messages and his heart stopped when he saw two from Cooper. One said Blaine was doing much better, and was going to be transferred from the hospital to a “I don’t want to say nursing home, but it’s a lower key place with nurses. He’ll get to go home soon.” The second said, “B hopes to see you again before Christmas.”

Kurt thought that Blaine couldn’t see him “again” before Christmas, because Blaine never saw him, technically, in the first place. But he sent a different message back to Cooper.

“Grounding’s over. Can I come tonight? Preferably around 7 or 8 rather than 1 in the morning, this time.”

His hands turned clammy and shook slightly while he waited for a response, which came soon enough. “Thought I’d never hear from you again. Tonight would be great. He might be awake. See you later.”

Kurt didn’t bother replying. Instead he called Mercedes. “You’re coming with me to a nursing home in Columbus. I’ll tell you everything in the car.”

“Uhhhh...” Mercedes said slowly, thought about it, and then agreed. “Okay.”


	5. Chapter 5

By the time they arrived Mercedes was filled in with all the details. He even told her how Blaine held his hand and wouldn’t let go, which he hadn’t told Finn or Rachel.

“That’s great, Kurt,” she said at the end of it all. “I mean, I think it’s great. It’s great as long as he gets better, wakes up, and is a really wonderful person.”

“He will be,” Kurt assured her. He showed her the picture of him in his sunglasses and fancy jacket, with the big smile on his face. “How is that not a really wonderful person?”

“I don’t know,” she shook her head. “You haven’t technically even met him. And I think you should tell your dad. He should know Blaine is so sick. You know what they say...” she trailed off, not actually wanting to say that Kurt was in danger, too.

“But he’s getting better! He’s going home soon.”

“Just because he’s better for a while doesn’t mean he’s really better. If doctors haven’t cured him, couldn’t he get really sick all over again, at any time?”

Kurt sighed. He’d gotten all excited, and weirdly happy, telling Mercedes about Blaine, but now his mood was sufficiently dampened. “Let’s go in.”

“What if he’s awake?” Mercedes whispered to him as they went down the hall a nurse had directed them to take.

“It would be good,” Kurt said, surprising himself a little with the response. “I want him to be.” He wasn’t nervous this time, for some reason. He wanted to meet him, to see him and to be seen back, to look into his eyes to find out what color they were, and get to know him. He wanted everything to start happening.

Cooper nodded at him as they entered another lobby. “Nice timing,” he said. “Our parents just left. He’s not awake.”

Kurt’s heart fell, but then a new idea occurred to him. Maybe he could wake him up. Maybe he was the only one who could.

He said nothing of this idea to Cooper or Mercedes, and instead rather confidently told them to wait outside and that he was going in. He went into Blaine’s room, this time, without being scared at all.

The sun was just beginning to set, so at least the room wasn’t almost black this time. Kurt was a little taken aback by how enormous and strangely beautiful the new room was. He doubted Blaine, who was usually asleep and probably never feeling very well, needed roses in crystal vases or possibly authentic rococo paintings on the walls. The TV in this room was four times the size of the one in the hospital, and Kurt doubted Blaine ever watched it. This meant, in layman’s terms, that Blaine’s family was apparently really, really rich.

Blaine was in a real bed this time, and had far fewer, but still a couple of, tubes hooked into him. He looked much more comfortable this time, and he wasn’t so pale.

Kurt refused to believe Blaine actually felt better because of his one, frankly awful, visit, but he was happy to see the improvement. And he was still nowhere near as nervous as before. He took Blaine’s hand without any hesitation.

Blaine was already sleeping on his side, facing the chair Kurt sat in, so he didn’t expect what happened the first night to happen again. But he did expect Blaine to hold on tight again, which he didn’t. Not right away, anyway.

Kurt frowned a little and cleared his throat. “I’m back,” he said. “I’m sorry it took me so long. My dad didn’t appreciate our 2 AM rendezvous last time. I didn’t get back home until four.” He paused. “But it was worth it, I mean, I was really glad to have met you, as much as that actually happened, and I was so happy to see your text message. I was hoping we could talk this time, for real. Not just me talking to myself.”

Blaine’s fingers moved a little around Kurt’s. Kurt leaned forward, to put his elbow on his knee and his chin in his free hand, to look at Blaine up close. He was really obnoxiously beautiful, which Kurt was hoping wouldn’t be the case. A regular case of cute would have been the best thing, but Blaine was disarmingly beautiful in a way that made one wonder if it was too good to be true. There had to be something bad about him, didn’t there? But Kurt couldn’t see what it was.

His eyes fell to Blaine’s lips and lingered there awhile before he remembered to talk again. “Do you really remember me? Can you hear everything I say? Do you think this is real, or just crazy? I wish you could tell me something. Or anything.” He sighed. “Do you realize how much like Sleeping Beauty this is? And the best part about that is that it means I’m Prince Charming. Don’t think I won’t kiss you if that’s what it takes to wake you up.”

But he was lying. There was no way he’d kiss him. First of all, he would be far too embarrassed. And less importantly, it was probably illegal to kiss a stranger in a semi-coma in a nursing home. It was just an empty threat. But maybe it would be enough to catch his attention and bring him into the real world, if only for a few seconds.

Blaine finally moved then, and seemed to show the vaguest evidence that he recognized Kurt being there. First his lips turned up into the tiniest semblance of a smile, and then he curled up into a ball, with his knees up and his head down. He brought Kurt’s hand to his face, against the corner of his mouth, without ever letting go. Kurt could feel Blaine’s breath on his fingers, and small part of Blaine’s lips against his thumb.

Kurt was prepared, this time. He didn’t have to be pulled forward in an uncomfortable position because he sat close enough to Blaine in the first place to be pulled closer to him. And he was happy when it happened again. He’d almost thought it wasn’t going to.

“Blaine...” Kurt whispered to him with a shaking voice, “it seems like you’re only awake when I’m not here and... it’s not fair. Every day I go to school and I watch all the other couples hold hands and make out and it makes me sick. I thought it was because I just really hate PDAs, and most people in general, but it’s really because I’m alone. I’m all alone, and now I could have you but I still can’t because you’re sick and asleep. I realize now that I want you to get better. I know I said the first time I was really just worried about myself, but I’m worried about you, too. I worry about you all the time, every day. Why don’t we deserve to have a real, happy relationship like everyone else? Why don’t we get to go on dates, or go to prom, or text each other stupid, slightly inappropriate things in the dark of our bedrooms until three in the morning? I want to hear your laugh, I want to see your eyes. I want to really look at you. So...” he paused, a little out of breath after this probably useless and unheard rant. “So wake up. I demand it.”

He couldn’t remember ever demanding anything before, but it seemed like a good thing to demand. Maybe it would work.

He waited and watched Blaine’s peaceful face for any sign of response. At first it seemed like nothing was going to happen. Kurt was about to stand up and leave, defeated. But then he felt Blaine’s fingers tighten on Kurt’s again. Then he frowned a little, and furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh my god,” Kurt said, really to himself. “You’re actually trying to wake up.”

Then it occurred to him, too late, that maybe Blaine shouldn’t wake up, like, maybe he kept falling asleep because his body really needed him to, and if it didn’t something terrible would happen. And then Kurt felt bad for asking, especially since it seemed that Blaine was struggling against something unseen in that moment, and was maybe even in pain.

It was such an intense moment that Kurt didn’t notice the yelling coming from the lobby outside, where Cooper and Mercedes were waiting for him. It was muffled and far away, and something in Kurt’s brain told him it probably had nothing to do with him or Blaine, so he ignored it.

And he was entirely unaware it was happening at all when Blaine’s eyes opened into narrow slits. He blinked and squinted like the whole world was too bright for him to look at, but then he blinked up at Kurt and held his gaze for a moment.

Neither of them had time to say anything. First they were too caught up in the moment, and then the door to Blaine’s room was thrown open, and a man burst in, furious.

As a reflex, Kurt let go of Blaine’s hand and tried to jump back from him, but Blaine didn’t let go of Kurt, so he didn’t even actually move.

The man, dressed nicely, Kurt had to admit, with thick greying hair and black glasses, pointed at him from the door. “Kurt Hummel?” he asked. His face was turning red like Burt’s did every time Kurt was in trouble.

Kurt didn’t know much about Blaine and Cooper’s father, but he remembered hearing little snippets of things from Cooper, especially about how he wasn’t normal and would hold a grudge against you forever. “Yes?” Kurt answered him, high pitched and terrified.

Kurt realized then that Blaine was moving around next to him. He turned to see him struggling to sit up in the bed, hold Kurt’s hand, and shield his eyes from the sun coming in the windows, all at the same time. He looked like he’d been asleep for a hundred years. He still couldn’t open his eyes all the way. “Dad...” Blaine said, his voice almost inaudible and hoarse. “Don’t.”

Kurt heard Cooper say something similar from the lobby where he couldn’t see. But their father wasn’t listening to either of them. “Get out of here,” he said to Kurt in a dignified rage.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, and they turned to look at each other for the second time. Blaine looked up at him from under his long eyelashes, all worried and beautiful. “Don’t listen to him. Don’t go.”

“Get away from my son,” the man enunciated quite clearly, his voice raising in volume, “and get out of here. I won’t tell you again.”

“Okay, I’m leaving,” Kurt said, putting his hands up in a sort of defense. Blaine let him go, but looked disappointed. “I’m sorry,” Kurt said quietly to him. “I’ll come back.”

“No, you won’t,” Blaine’s father said.

Kurt walked backwards out of the room, still looking at Blaine. “I’ll call you,” he mouthed, and hoped his father didn’t see.

The last thing Kurt saw before he escaped the room was Blaine slumped up in bed, awake finally, and sad.

Mercedes grabbed his arm as soon as she saw him and pulled him close. “I thought that guy was going to kill you,” she said under her breath, pulling him down the hall and toward the parking lot as fast as possible. “I knew we should have just gone to the mall.”

Cooper followed them for a while, apologizing and telling Kurt not to worry. “He’ll come around. He’ll see how much good you’ve done and...” but then Mercedes pulled him out of the building, and he didn’t hear any more of Cooper’s promises.

Kurt’s heart was racing until they were well on the way back home. He had Mercedes drive, because he was too freaked out. He took comfort in the fact that he wouldn’t have to deal with his own angry father when he got home, this time.

But he was wrong.


	6. Chapter 6

He’d barely taken his shoes off when Burt stormed up to him. “Where have you been?”

Kurt frowned and looked at his watch. “It’s only 9:45.”

“Did you forget about dinner?”

Kurt was certain no pre-planned dinner was supposed to happen that night. He was 90% sure Finn was still gone, too. “I had dinner with Mercedes. At the mall.”

Burt gave him a blunt look. “Stop lying to me, Kurt.”

Kurt began to get flustered. “I’m not! I’m just...” he sighed. He supposed he couldn’t hide from it anymore. Maybe his father could even give him advice as to what to do, now that he was apparently banished from ever seeing Blaine again. “Fine. I’ll tell you everything.”

“Thank you,” Burt said, and waited.

“I’ll tell all of you, but we have to wait until Finn gets home.”

“Finn is already home.”

Kurt’s heart fell. “Oh.” He wanted an hour to prepare, at least.

“Family meeting!” Burt yelled, and dragged his son to the dining room, where they were soon joined by Carole and Finn.

Kurt sat on one side of the table and the other three sat across from him. Burt and Carole unnervingly stared at him, while Finn seemed to be mostly interested in his own thumbs.

Kurt took a deep breath before beginning. “It’s all Finn’s fault.”

Finn looked up. “It is not! It’s...”

They both said it together. “It’s Rachel’s fault.”

“What did she do?” Burt asked calmly.

“It was movie night, the night before Thanksgiving,” Kurt began. “Tina was crying over the cute couple in the movie, and then Rachel came in and said you guys were so cute, and it was so inspirational that you found each other after everything else. And then everyone started talking about soulmates.”

“Not me,” Finn corrected.

“What does this have to do with you, Kurt?” Carole asked. “I thought you didn’t have the name of yours.”

“I didn’t...”

“And you do now?” Burt asked, his calm morphing quickly into something more urgent and possibly angry.

“Well, everyone said there’s some website to find the name of your soulmate if you don’t have it. You put in your own name, and check to see if anyone’s searching for you.”

“And you just went ahead and did it?” Burt asked. Definitely angry now. “Did you think about the consequences of this? Did you consider that it could... _will_ change your whole life? Did you ever think about talking to me about it first?”

“I didn’t do it, Dad!” Kurt said defensively. “They said they were going to look me up, and Finn got mad and left, and I wanted to leave too, but I was too sick. But they put my name in and said I wasn’t even on there.”

Burt and Carole stared at him, speechless. “So...” Burt said. “Where does this story actually start?”

“They lied,” Kurt said. “I _was_ on there, I guess. They just didn’t want to scare me with what they found. It was my...” he paused. It was weird to say the words out loud. “My soulmate’s brother, who was looking for me.”

Now they were even more confused. “His brother?” Carole asked. “Wait, it is a boy, right?”

“Yes, it’s a boy,” Kurt rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I guess the site said he was looking for me on his brother’s behalf, because his brother couldn’t look for me himself. Because he was sick.”

“Sick,” Burt repeated.

“Like, with the flu, like you?” Carole asked.

“No.” Kurt sighed. “They don’t know what’s wrong with him. He was in the hospital, and...”

“Oh, God,” Burt put his elbows on the table and covered his eyes with his hands. It was a disbelieving, exhausted gesture that Kurt wasn’t expecting. He expected his father to yell, or ground him again, but not this.

“But he’s getting better!” Kurt said, hoping to reassure him. “His name is Blaine, and Cooper is his brother. Rachel gave Cooper my phone number, and he was who kept calling me during Thanksgiving dinner. He told me about Blaine, and said he thought I should go visit him at the hospital. He thought I could help Blaine, make him feel better just by being there. And Rachel and Finn went with me, because... they were worried about me, I guess. They saw how sick I was and thought maybe it was connected. They were just trying to help.”

Carole had been rubbing Burt’s back, trying to be supportive as he kept his face hidden behind his hands, but now she patted Finn on the shoulder. There were too many people for her to comfort, it seemed, but no one, of course, thought to comfort Kurt. No one seemed to be the least sympathetic for Blaine. It was like none of this meant anything to them except that maybe now Kurt might die. And still they acted a little standoffish to him, like he had done something wrong. Like it wouldn’t have happened if Kurt didn’t go see Blaine the first night. Like any of them could have stopped it, whether or not they understood the meaning behind it.

Finn broke the silence after a while. “This is why the whole idea of soulmates is so stupid. Look how upset we all are. Why... why should a stranger be able to take Kurt away from us, just because he gets sick first? What gives him the right?”

Carole shook her head. “But, honey, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“You’re right,” Kurt nodded. “There’s nothing any of you can do to change it now. I’m sorry, dad, that I didn’t talk to you first. But it’s happened. I went at first because I wanted to know if... if we were really connected, and I hoped I could save myself, if I could make any difference at all. But I really care about him, now. We’ve barely ever spoken to each other, but I do feel... something with him. Maybe I love him.”

“But you don’t even know him!” Finn yelled.

“But I don’t need to, to know!” Kurt yelled back. “People fall in love at first sight all the time, and who better to do that than people who were destined to be together?”

Finn rolled his eyes and stood from his chair. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this. I’m going to bed.”

Kurt expected Burt and Carole to make him stay, but they let him go. Burt finally brought his hands down from his face. Kurt was relieved to see he wasn’t actually crying, but he looked so sad that he might as well have been.

“You two should understand this more than anyone else,” Kurt pleaded to them.

“We do,” Carole nodded. “Or, we’re trying to. It’s a lot, Kurt. We weren’t expecting it. And we’re worried about you.”

“But he’s getting better?” Burt asked, not caring about anything except that.

“Yes,” Kurt nodded. “Cooper said he’ll be going home soon, and then he’ll go back to school, and live a normal life.”

Burt shook his head. “I don’t know what to say, Kurt. I’m speechless.”

“I’m sorry, dad.” And he was. He felt guilty. He also was hurt that Burt wasn’t a little bit happy for him, or even understood why Kurt was happy. Of course, it was a sad situation, but it wasn’t hopeless. Kurt was optimistic. He had no intentions of letting Blaine’s father keep them apart. They’d just have to be more secretive. And soon they’d be 18, and could do whatever they wanted to. And he knew in his heart that Blaine would get better soon.

“Just let me sleep on it, Kurt. Let’s talk about it again in the morning.” Burt stood first, Carole followed him and Kurt decided to give him a hug before he left the room. He promised he loved him, and hoped he didn’t worry too much.

And then he was alone in the dining room. He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in telling everyone. He didn’t want to put too much pressure on Burt. He ended up saying more than he expected to say. But he wanted to be honest with his family.

Finally he went to his room and tried to call Blaine, but there was no answer. He sent a text instead. “I hope you didn’t get yelled at today because of me. I’m sorry if I caused any problems.” He sent it and waited a couple minutes, but no response came. He started another message. “My short term life goal was to figure out the color of your eyes, so thanks for looking at me today. I guess that weird indescribable color is what people call hazel. I miss you already, and... I sort of told my family a few minutes ago that I might love you. I thought you should probably know. Feel free to chalk me up as a psycho and cease all contact with me. Or get back to me as soon as possible. Whatever you prefer.”

With that, he went to sleep. Or, tried to. He actually accomplished it a few hours later.

In the morning he found a new text from Blaine. “I go home this weekend and start school after winter break. Doctors say I need to have someone keep an eye on me at all times, until January. I’m going to need someone to babysit me over dinner at Breadstix, 8PM, next Saturday. Interested? I sent this as soon as possible.”

Kurt smiled, still sleepy on his pillow. “Interested. I can’t believe I’ll actually get to have an entire conversation with you. Are you sure nothing scary will happen? What if you collapse? I don’t know CPR.”

“I’ll be fine,” came a fast reply. “No more texting. We’re only talking in real life.”

So Kurt closed the message, called Mercedes instead, and tried not to hysterically scream too loudly at her about his upcoming date with Blaine.


	7. Chapter 7

The week passed too slowly, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything at school. Saturday was torture, except when he went with Mercedes and Tina to the mall and picked out a good date outfit. Well, it would be good after a few small alterations, which he spent Sunday making. The next week went even slower, and he thought he might actually start failing classes if the weekend didn’t turn up soon. Usually he was intelligent enough not to let real life affect his concentration and grades, but everything about the Blaine thing made him feel hopeless and ridiculous. He tried not to remember Finn’s words about teenagers and their soulmates becoming drooling idiots. What did Finn know about it, anyway?

Mercedes came over on Saturday afternoon to help him get ready, which really just meant she listened to music in his room and periodically approved of things he did to his hair.

The sun finally began to set, and that made it official. It was actually Saturday night. Kurt was delighting in this fact when Mercedes said, offhand, “It’s the Breadstix in Lima?”

He blinked. “What?”

“Well, he doesn’t live in Lima, does he?”

Kurt’s throat felt like it was slowly closing up. “No, I don’t think so,” he answered, barely above a whisper.

“Does he know you live here?”

He shook his head.

She stared at him, and he stared back.

“Oh my God,” he said finally, panic setting in. “Am I supposed to be in Columbus? There’s no time!”

There was a knock at his bedroom door, and Burt poked his head in. “Um,” he said. “There’s something for you downstairs.”

“There’s no time!” Kurt yelled again at his father, not intending to be mean, only because he was genuinely freaking out.

Burt rolled his eyes. “Just go downstairs.”

Mercedes gasped, realizing what this meant before Kurt did. After a beat he thought he might know what it meant, but it couldn’t possibly actually mean _that_.

He pushed past his father and froze halfway down the stairs when Blaine turned around in the living room and smiled up at him. He wore a nice black suit with a white handkerchief in the pocket, and his hair was tamed down with gel. It looked quite different from his curly hospital hair.

“Okay,” Kurt said from the stairs. “What’s going on? How did this happen?”

“I guess I forgot to mention I’d pick you up,” Blaine said, still smiling.

“How did you even know I live here?”

“The phone book. And a little help from your dad.”

Kurt’s jaw dropped in surprise. He whipped around to confront Burt, but Burt was nowhere to be found. He only managed to catch a glimpse of Mercedes duck back into his room, apparently spying on them. He guessed they were trying to make this first/third meeting as least awkward as possible.

Kurt turned back to Blaine. “I can’t believe you’re... standing up.”

Blaine rolled his eyes. “Come down here!”

Kurt descended the rest of the steps, and then couldn’t really stop himself before he made his way all the way to Blaine, and pulled him close into a hug. “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I promise.” Blaine squeezed Kurt’s shoulder gratefully. “Don’t worry about me.”

“But how?” Kurt asked, pulling back from him again. “Why weren’t you just like this two months ago?”

Blaine shrugged. “It’s a mystery. And different medicine. I’m taking a lot of new medicine.” He held up his hands to show his shaking fingers. “It’s a lot of caffeine and stimulants. They’re treating me for narcolepsy, even though that’s not what I have. They don’t know what else to do.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt said and took Blaine’s trembling fingers to steady them. “As long as you can handle it. I’d rather have you be here than not.”

Blaine smiled again. “Are you ready? Let’s go.”

In the car Kurt scolded Blaine for driving all the way to Kurt’s house, alone, at night, when he was supposed to be watched at all times.

“It wasn’t very far,” Blaine said.

“From Columbus?” Kurt asked. “It’s almost two hours!”

Blaine looked at him sideways. “My parents live ten minutes from here. I’m usually two hours away at school, but not recently. I was in the hospital in Columbus because my parents thought specialists there would know what to do with me. Turned out not to be the case.”

“Really? You live in Lima?” Kurt sat back in the passenger seat, considering the fact that Blaine had been in the same city as him all their lives, and they’d never crossed paths.

“Sometimes, yes,” Blaine said. “And when I was younger, yes.”

At the restaurant Blaine ordered a lunch portion of plain spaghetti noodles with no sauce, and a glass of water, no lemon and no ice. “I have to take food slowly,” he said to Kurt, who seemed a little shocked. “I didn’t eat anything solid for almost three months.”

Kurt shook his head. “We shouldn’t have come to dinner.”

“I tried to think of something more fun, or interesting, but this town provides very few options. Restaurant, movie, mall. I don’t know if you like movies or shopping, but I assumed you eat, so here we are.”

“I hope you’ve inferred by now that I do, in fact, like shopping. Not that the Lima Mall offers very many brands I actually approve of, but I like looking. I can always find something.”

“I’ll keep the mall in mind for next time, then,” Blaine said, and then mumbled something Kurt didn’t quite catch about a contingency on not going to the Gap.

Kurt smiled nervously at Blaine when he realized it was probably his turn to say something. “So... what’s your relationship to clothes?” It seemed the safest personal question to ask.

Blaine thought about it. “I spend most of my time in my Dalton uniform and my pajamas, to be honest.”

Kurt deflated a little. It was probably a mean question to ask someone who had to stay in bed for the past three months. “Sorry...” he began to say.

“But I do like them. I like to look well dressed and put together, which is why I’m so embarrassed that the first time you saw me I was unconscious and un-showered and probably drooling.”

Kurt laughed. “I didn’t notice any drool.”

“Cooper makes fun of how many cardigans and bow ties I own on a bi-daily basis, so that should mean something.”

“That makes me very happy,” Kurt said. “It seems less likely now I’ll have to give you a fashion intervention.”

“Did I do okay tonight?” Blaine asked, holding out his arms for Kurt to inspect his jacket.

“You did great,” Kurt said honestly. “I’m actually surprised. I’ve never even seen a guy my age dress in something other than what he could find at Walmart or what his mother laid out for him in the morning.”

Their food arrived and Blaine smiled at Kurt’s joke, and compliment, while he twirled his plain noodles around a fork. “This is living large, for me. I had a piece of white bread for breakfast and lunch today.”

Kurt pushed a basket of breadsticks toward him. “At least you can have those. They’re just white bread and... various salts.”

“And oil and butter.” Blaine eyed them suspiciously. “I don’t know...” he said, but took one and put it on his plate for later.

They chewed silently for a while, a distinct feeling of panic settling into Kurt’s stomach for each second that passed and no one said anything. But he didn’t know what to say.

“Shouldn’t we talk about something real?” Blaine asked eventually.

“Probably,” Kurt agreed. Blaine seemed about to say something, but Kurt decided to start first, to get out what had been bothering him. “I’m sorry for being so...” he paused, trying to think of the right word. “Forward,” he said finally. “Especially in the text I sent about...” His face went bright red at the thought, and he stared hard at his pasta. “About what I said to my family. I shouldn’t have told you.”

“You shouldn’t have told me that you told other people you might love me?” Blaine smiled at him. “I should have some right to know when these things happen.”

“I know, but it was just... sort of a family fight, and I was just trying to defend myself and the reasons I snuck out to see you. But...” Kurt paused, remembering what Finn said. “I don’t really know you. I felt a connection with you, but I... I don’t even know what real love is. And it was easy to text you embarrassing things like that when you were practically a vegetable, and I wasn’t sure I’d ever have to sit across from you at a dinner table and look you in the eye and face the consequences of it. And I hope you know I’m not usually that obnoxious. Well, I am, but not about...” he stopped. He couldn’t say ‘boys’ or ‘crushes’ or he would melt and die on the spot.

Luckily, Blaine seemed to understand what he was trying to say. “It’s really okay. Don’t worry about it. Imagine what I said about you to my dad after he kicked you out.”

Kurt’s heart skipped a beat. Did Blaine tell his father he loved Kurt, too? Was that even a possibility?

“Your texts made me happy,” Blaine shrugged. “I didn’t think it was weird.” He took a tentative bite of breadstick. “Remember what you said to me the first night?”

“I can’t believe _you_ remember it, but yes, I do. Which part?”

“About us not getting married. You said you wouldn’t marry me just because we’re supposed to be soulmates. You said you wouldn’t even fall in love with me just because we are. And I agree with you.”

Kurt mumbled something noncommittal into his soda. This wasn’t exactly the turn he’d wanted the conversation to take.

“We should just promise to be friends, forever. We don’t even have to be best friends. We should promise to stay in each other’s lives as much as we can, to pop in every now and then, to try to be there for each other whenever we need each other. I, for one, am in massive debt to you for how much you helped me. The next time you need someone, I’ll be there. I promise.” He held out his hand.

Kurt put down his fork so they could shake on it. “I promise too.” He decided not to think about how much he liked Blaine’s hands and hoped he didn’t hold onto him too long. “Did I really help you that much? I don’t feel like I did.”

“You did. You woke me up.”

“But I told you to do it for yourself, not for me.”

“I did it for my own reasons, which were mostly to get to spend time with you.”

Kurt smiled at him, but Blaine had a strange look on his face suddenly. He turned pale and dropped his gaze to his dinner.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked, getting ready to duck out of the way in an instant if Blaine threw up.

“I’m... yes,” Blaine pushed his plate away from him, across the table. “I have to stop eating that.” A thin layer of perspiration broke out across his forehead and he swayed slightly in his chair.

“Let’s go,” Kurt insisted, already half standing up. “You’re sick. I should take you home.”

“I’m sorry,” Blaine shook his head, disappointed in himself, and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. “I guess I have to work up to entire nights out of the house.”

“It’s okay, don’t apologize,” Kurt assured him, and threw thirty dollars on the table before Blaine’s slow fingers could get at any of his own money. Kurt held out a hand to him. “Let’s go.”

Blaine’s shoulders slumped. “I’ll pay you back.”

“No. Come on.”

Blaine took Kurt’s hand and pulled himself up to standing. “I’ll pay next time, then. If you’ll ever see me again after this.”

“I’ve seen you in much worse condition and was thrilled with you, I wouldn’t worry about it.”

Blaine wrapped his arm around Kurt’s waist while they made their way out of the restaurant, which was a new and thrilling experience for Kurt. Especially since they were in public. He noticed an older woman staring at them, and when she realized she was caught by Kurt she reddened and frowned into at her plate. Apparently helping your sick friend walk while dressed like a gay teenager was enough to embarrass and anger the conservatives at the same time. Well, Kurt decided he didn’t care. He decided the feeling of Blaine pressed close against him was enough to counter the feeling of a thousand strangers frowning at him. He actually smiled to himself when that woman looked away from him. He felt vindicated for the first time in his whole life, and he was sure nothing could ruin the feeling.


	8. Chapter 8

They made it to his car without incident. Kurt drove back to his own house, with Blaine in the passenger seat. The car was new and clean and smelled good and went much faster than Kurt’s car could ever hope to. Blaine stared out the window and kept his feet up on the seat, hugging his knees, the whole way, silent. When Kurt pulled in to his driveway he said, “Are you going to be able to drive yourself home? I could take you and have my dad come pick me up.”

“No, I can do it,” Blaine said without turning his head to Kurt, and didn’t sound convincing at all.

Kurt put the car in reverse. “I’m taking you. Where do you live?”

Blaine meekly directed him to a part of town Kurt never visited because he assumed everyone who lived there was a stuck up asshole with slaves thinly disguised as maids and butlers.

The driveway to Blaine’s parents’ house was approximately ten miles long (an estimate) and lined on either side by trees wrapped with twinkling Christmas lights. It was terribly romantic, so Kurt tried to shove it out of his mind.

He rolled to a stop near the end of the driveway. First he thought Blaine might get out himself, but he didn’t move. Then Kurt wondered if he should help him inside, but he was mildly concerned his father would be home and might attack him with a machete. He hadn’t even ruled out the possibility Blaine’s father was already watching them with binoculars from the house.

He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ask if Blaine needed help, but that would imply he should leave, and maybe he didn’t want to leave yet.

“I don’t want to go in,” Blaine said finally.

Kurt leaned his head back on the seat and waited patiently.

“Let me see your license,” Blaine said.

Kurt cocked an eyebrow at him. “It’s a little late to question whether or not I have a driver’s license. I didn’t hit anything, did I?”

Blaine smiled. “Just let me see it.”

Kurt dug it out of his wallet and handed it over. Blaine stared down at it for a while without saying anything. He rubbed his thumb over the picture of Kurt and his name.

“That was my Madonna/Beyonce pose,” Kurt pointed out.

“I thought it was Blue Steel.”

Kurt laughed, but Blaine still seemed a little sad.

Blaine sighed. “When I was eight I had a bunch of friends over after school, and we thought it would be a good idea to go up into the attic. We were pretending the house was a spaceship, or something, so the attic must be the cockpit. Plus, it would provide the best views of the yard and our alien enemy, my golden retriever. And I don’t even know how we pulled down the ladder and got up there without my parents noticing, but my parents aren’t very observant anyway. So we were up there, running around and yelling, and we knocked over a bunch of boxes and spilled old clothes and pictures and paperwork everywhere. When my parents eventually realized, they made my friends go home, and made me clean everything up by myself. So I was cleaning, and pouting, and I found this piece of paper that had my name on it. So, I read it. And it had your name on it, too. It was a big, long, confusing thing about soulmates and me and you. So I went downstairs and asked my parents what it meant, not thinking that it was probably locked far away from me in the attic for a reason. And my dad just... freaked out. He got angrier than I’d ever seen him get before, and he tried to take the paper from me and rip it up. But I wouldn’t let him have it. I don’t know why. I always respected my father, I always saw him as the most important authority figure in my life. I’d never done anything independent of him, I never intentionally did anything that went against his rules, until then. I never even considered myself capable of an independence from him, like that. Of course, when I was eight, I didn’t know what anything meant. I just felt that piece of paper was more important and more serious than the tantrum he was throwing. I locked myself in my room with that paper and kept it hidden until... well, it’s still in my hiding spot. And later, Cooper explained to me what should have been obvious: that my dad was pissed my soulmate’s name was Kurt, that he was a boy, that his son was going to be gay. He thought if he hid it from me, I wouldn’t think I _had_ to be gay, so I wouldn’t become gay after all.”

“What did you think about my name?” Kurt asked quietly when Blaine went quiet.

“Well, when I was eight I didn’t care, because I was barely old enough to be interested in girls if I even would have been. I just thought you’d be like one of the friends I already had, except you’d be funnier and better than they were. And after that... I don’t know. I never worried about it. I never had an existential crisis over it, like my father did. I just imagined you would show up when I really needed you, and you would be good and pure and make me want to be better. Which you did, and you are. I know you’re pure and good just from spending five minutes with you, so don’t argue with me that we don’t really know each other.”

“You are, too,” Kurt said, trying to not get emotional.

“Maybe. To a lesser extent.” He handed Kurt’s license back to him. “I’ve thought about your name every time I was particularly happy or sad since I was eight years old. Any time in my life I wanted you to be there next to me, or thought you should be but you weren’t. I just wanted proof you really exist. That it’s really you.”

“It’s really me,” Kurt said. “But what about me? I don’t even know that Cooper’s not crazy and got my name off Facebook, or something. This whole thing could be a lie, as far as I know.”

Blaine smiled. “It’s not. I’ll show you the certificate some day.”

“I would like to see it,” Kurt nodded. “Not because I don’t trust you, just because... I never had one of my own, and I always wanted one. Yours is basically mine, right?”

“Of course.”

They looked into each other’s eyes for a while, the first time they’d held eye contact for more than a couple of seconds all night. A breeze blew outside and shook the tree branches so the Christmas lights twinkled even more brilliantly. Kurt couldn’t help but notice Blaine’s eyes sparkled in the dim, white-blue light.

It was a comfortable staring, like they had suddenly and wordlessly given permission to visually explore each other. Kurt was calm again, the way he felt the first night when Blaine was sleeping and breathing so peacefully and holding his hand.

Blaine blinked slowly.

“You look sleepy,” Kurt whispered to him, not wanting to ruin the atmosphere.

Blaine opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, and obviously changed his mind. “Call your dad to come pick you up. I’ll wait with you until he gets here.”

It took some explaining for Burt to understand why Kurt needed to be picked up at Blaine’s house, and who’s car was where, and why, but eventually he agreed.

Blaine turned the radio on after Kurt hung up and tuned to a station playing old Christmas music. He put his head on Kurt’s shoulder, and they sat without speaking until the headlights of Burt’s truck shone into the car windows. Blaine sat up and settled back into his own seat.

Burt got out of the truck and crunched in the snow over to Kurt, still behind the wheel of Blaine’s car. He rolled down the window. Burt peered in at them. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” they said together.

Kurt wouldn’t leave until Blaine was inside the house and had turned on a light, to signal he was okay. When Kurt saw an upstairs window illuminate, he allowed his father to drive him away, but he wished he wasn’t going.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt didn’t hear from Blaine at all the next day. By Monday night he started to get nervous. He worried something bad happened, but he supposed Cooper would tell him if it did. Then he was nervous that he should be the one to call Blaine first. Or should he? He didn’t know how post-date communication was supposed to work, and then again, he didn’t even know if it had been a date. He just knew he missed Blaine.

But by the time he’d worked up the courage to call him Monday night, it was already 11:30, and didn’t know if calling that late would be a good idea. What if Blaine was asleep? He needed to keep a steady sleep routine, Kurt knew from secretly researching narcolepsy at the library (even though Blaine insisted that wasn’t what was wrong with him). Or what if his father heard the phone ring so late at night? He’d start another fight, and Kurt really hoped to avoid doing that again.

So he started thinking about the pros and cons of texting Blaine so late at night. What if incoming texts on Blaine’s phone made a loud noise? While he was thinking about it, a text came from Blaine, letting Kurt off the hook.

“A paradox:” it said, “you only want to talk to me in real life, but you want to send me inappropriate texts at three in the morning. Which is the one you really want?”

Kurt smiled. “Both,” he replied.

“I have a series of inappropriate texts to send you tonight. Or should I wait to talk to you about it when we see each other again?”

Kurt swallowed nervously. “No. You can send them. Or say whatever you want. Tonight.” He rolled his eyes and vowed to stop text-babbling.

There was a long pause, during which Kurt’s heart almost thumped out of his chest. He expected a rather long reply, after all the waiting, but there were only five words in the end. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

Kurt exhaled, realizing he’d been holding his breath. That wasn’t quite as terrifying as he expected. “No.”

“A crush?”

Except you? “No...” Kurt replied, deciding to let Blaine infer whatever he wanted from the ellipses.

“Ever been kissed?”

Kurt thought about it and decided the best answer was, “Not by a boy. And I hope you know you have to answer all of this, too.”

“I wanted to kiss you in the car,” was his response.

Kurt didn’t know what to think about this. He spent a minute or so wondering if he was going to explode, or implode, and when he finally had control of his motor skills again he replied, “Why didn’t you?”

“I didn’t want to steal your first kiss. I knew I should ask you first, if it was okay. But I was too nervous.”

“Blaine, you’re my soulmate. My first kiss basically belongs to you. Anyone else should have to ask your permission before they kiss me.”

“Maybe,” was all he said.

Kurt waited, but nothing more came. “Your turn. Answer them,” he sent finally, not wanting to end the conversation yet. And because he was curious.

“Not anymore, yes, yes.”

Kurt’s heart sank. These were not the perfect, magical answers he wanted. He wanted Blaine to be as much of an inexperienced idiot as he was. He didn’t want to think about Blaine with anyone else, looking at them like he looked at Kurt, or holding their hand like he held Kurt’s. This could just as easily mean Blaine had had wild tantric sex with about five hundred different men, too, but he wasn’t allowed to ask that.

“But I’m still a virgin. Don’t stop talking to me.”

“I am still talking to you,” Kurt texted back with shaking fingers.

“Inappropriate, I warned you.”

“It’s not inappropriate. I have a right to know, right? Besides, you can tell me anything.”

“If your first kiss belongs to me, then my virginity belongs to you.”

This was a little more than Kurt could handle all at once. He dropped the phone onto his pillow and took a slow walk downstairs to get a glass of water. Very cold water. And he stared out the kitchen window at the snow and tried to think of boring things, like taking out the garbage and French homework. And tried not to think about how his life was being turned upside down in a weird and overwhelmingly wonderful way. After he managed to start breathing normally again and his cheeks were only moderately on fire, he went back to his room and checked his phone.

“You can do with it what you wish. Goodnight,” Blaine had sent.

Quickly Kurt sent a reply. “Don’t go to sleep yet, I want to keep talking. Maybe not about the present topic, but about anything.”

He waited, and waited, and waited, but Blaine sent nothing in return. Defeated, Kurt turned out the light and tried to sleep.

For the rest of the week, he moped around school and felt sorry for himself. He was sure Blaine was mad at him, and it didn’t help that he never answered the last text Kurt sent.

He spent the first day of winter break moping at home. He frowned while he ate sugar cookies and watched Finn decorate the tree. He was supposed to be helping, but he couldn’t muster the cheer.

“Are you still sulking over that Blaine guy?” Finn asked, trying to untangle little lights and only managing to wrap himself up in them instead.

Kurt glared at him. “ _That Blaine guy_?”

“Well, I don’t know,” Finn frowned. “What should I call him?”

“Blaine?” Kurt offered.

“No, it’s too weird. Anyway, he’s all better now, right?”

Kurt shrugged. “I guess so.”

“But you are. You’re not sick anymore at all. Do you… do you think it really was all connected?”

He answered honestly. “I have no idea.”

“If it was connected, that means maybe every time someone gets sick it’s because their soulmate got sick first.”

“Not every time…” Kurt frowned, trying to do the math. “Maybe half the time, or… I don’t know.”

“Do you think Burt and my mom get sick at the same time?”

“Yeah but that’s probably because they share a bedroom.” Kurt blanched. “I wish I hadn’t said that. I just mean they breathe the same air.”

“But all soulmates who know each other breathe the same air. And make out all the time.”

“What are we even talking about?” Kurt asked. “Blaine doesn’t have a contagious disease, that’s why it’s weird that I got sick too.”

“Maybe it was just a coincidence,” Finn said, starting to circle the tree with lights. “But what about people who die when their soulmates die? All those people who die of ‘broken hearts.’ But what happens if you don’t know your soulmate? And you just randomly die in a car accident, or something?” Finn dropped the lights and stared wistfully into space. “What does it all mean?”

“I guess all we can do is hope our soulmates takes care of themselves. Keep themselves out of danger, and healthy.” Kurt then decided to eat two sugar cookies at once.

“It’s not fair,” Finn mumbled, and started decorating again. “I don’t want other people making stupid decisions that could affect me.”

He might have continued his regular anti-soulmate rant, but Kurt stopped listening. He heard his cellphone ring upstairs and he ran to it at top speed.

It was exactly who he wanted it to be. “Blaine!” he kind of yelled as a greeting.

Blaine laughed in a taken aback way. “Kurt!”

“Hi!” Okay, Kurt had to stop yelling gleefully. He cleared his throat and frowned in concentration. “Hi,” he tried again, calmly.

“Hi,” Blaine said. “You sound happy.”

“It’s the sugar,” Kurt explained without missing a beat. “I’ve been eating sugar cookies.”

“Kurt… I wanted to apologize to you. I’m really sorry.”

“For what?”

“For the stupid texts I sent you. I know they grossed you out and scared you away, or something. Are you mad at me?”

“No I’m not! I thought you were mad at me!” Yelling again. He sat down on the edge of his bed. Maybe sitting would make him feel less impassioned.

“Why would I be mad at you?” Blaine asked.

“Because I didn’t reply right away.”

“Oh,” he laughed. “Lesson learned. Let’s not stop talking to each other when we think the other one is mad.”

“Agreed. I’m sorry too. I should have called you days ago.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s make it up to each other with an afternoon of shopping.”

Kurt sprang up from his bed. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I need to buy, like, fifteen $5 Christmas presents for people at school. I’ll need your advice.”

“I’d be happy to give it!”

They met at the mall the following afternoon, after Blaine was finished with a doctor appointment. (“They still don’t understand anything. I’m officially a medical mystery,” Blaine said.)

Kurt used the opportunity to learn more about Blaine, and it wasn’t long before they started talking about their respective glee clubs. It turned out they probably would have met at a competition anyway, or would have at least seen each other, if Blaine was healthy enough to attend. Blaine froze at this realization and looked at Kurt. “Do you think we would have known?”

“Yes, I think we would have,” Kurt said. “At least, I would have known. I would have watched you sing and I would have known. But I would have been too embarrassed to actually talk to you. If you didn’t talk to me first the universe would have had to figure out a different way to push us together.”

“You talked to me first this time, though.”

“Well, it’s easy when you can’t look at me, or talk back. Not that I’m not happy you’re better now. I just know that I never would have talked to you if, like, three other people hadn’t forcibly shoved me toward you and kept us hostage in a room alone.”

“It was a good ice breaker,” Blaine agreed.

At dinner that night they talked about school, or more specifically, how they survived school. Kurt told Blaine about the jocks and the slushies, but how not everything was bad because he had an inordinate amount of friends from glee club and only had a year and a half left before he could run away to New York.

Blaine told Kurt about about being bullied in 9th grade and transferring to Dalton, where life became considerably better but a little mundane. “Until I came down with a crippling mystery disease and acquired a soulmate, that is,” he amended. “Now I never know what’s going to happen next.”

The night before Blaine started school again he called Kurt. They compared family members and talked about the future. It was helpful, if not glaring destiny, that both of them wanted to leave Lima for New York City, to do music in some sort of professional capacity. Then they started asking random questions, like, “can you cook?” and “what’s your opinion of the Beatles?”

When the conversation fell into a lull, Blaine asked quietly, “Do you think we know each other now?”

“Yes,” Kurt answered. “I’m sure we do.”

But Kurt was starting to think Blaine had forgotten about the boyfriend/first kiss texts. He never brought up a topic remotely close to romance, and Kurt began to wonder if he was supposed to take the hint that they should just be friends. Which was unfortunate, because the more he learned about Blaine, the harder he fell for him.


	10. Chapter 10

Every day after school, Blaine called Kurt and relayed to him everything that happened: how happy the Warblers were to see him again, how rusty his singing voice had gotten, how appreciative his friends were for the trendy but tasteful trouser socks Kurt helped him pick out as gifts. “I even told someone about you,” Blaine said. “I couldn’t keep you a secret any longer.”

“Did you get very tired? Do you think you should try half days at first?” Kurt asked, worried.

“Half days? I’m not in kindergarten.”

“I know, but you didn’t see you as sick as I saw you. I don’t want you to… overexert yourself.”

“I’ll be fine. I had plenty of time to rest and recuperate over the break.”

“You didn’t get tired at all?”

Blaine hesitated, and then said, “Nope.”

“That was the most unconvincing thing I’ve ever heard.”

He laughed. “I’m fine, Kurt. Who doesn’t get tired and stressed at school, some days? Anyway, I have something better I need to talk to you about.”

“Your health is the most important thing,” Kurt said. “But what is it?”

“Would you like to come over for dinner on Saturday? I’m cooking.”

“Do you even know how to cook?” Kurt asked, which was a front for the real question he wanted to ask, which was, ‘will your parents be home?’ He was still completely terrified of Blaine’s parents, and even if he wasn’t, he had little hope his father would ever approve of Kurt, especially after what Blaine told him that night in his car.

“I know how to cook a small amount of things very well,” Blaine said, and reading Kurt’s mind, answered his other question. “And my parents are out of town.”

It wasn’t until Blaine said it out loud that Kurt realized what it could potentially mean, and he accidentally dropped his phone in a fluster.

“Kurt?” Blaine was asking when he put it back to his ear.

“Sorry,” Kurt said shortly.

“Do you want to come over?”

“Saturday?”

“Saturday.”

“For dinner?”

“For dinner.”

“Okay,” Kurt said, his voice wavering slightly.

“Don’t be so nervous. I’m not that bad of a cook.”

Kurt had to cancel Saturday mall plans with Rachel, so she got mad at him and refused to talk to him about his home-alone-with-Blaine date after that. And when he tried to talk to Mercedes about it she just said, “I’m not trying to hear this,” and walked away. He thought about confiding to Finn for about half a second, before he realized Finn would have a nervous breakdown before he would actually provide advice. And even if he did give Kurt advice, it would be Finn-advice, which must certainly be worthless.

So he worried about it alone until Saturday, when he began to worry about it more. He styled and restyled his hair even more times than he’d done before their first date at Breadstix. He thought he could at least take comfort in the fact that he knew exactly what to wear, but that proved to be untrue, and he changed his outfit five times before he realized he was going to be late if he didn’t leave immediately.

The lights in the trees lining Blaine’s parents’ driveway were still up and on, and Kurt still thought they were beautiful. He sat in the car for a minute after he parked and turned it off, trying to give himself a pep talk. But Blaine opened the front door and gestured him inside. He couldn’t procrastinate any longer.

“Please don’t tell me you’re vegan, or don’t eat gluten, or have any dietary restrictions whatsoever, because it’s too late and everything is already cooking,” Blaine said as he led Kurt inside. “I know we’ve had dinner at Breadstix a hundred times, but I don’t pay particular attention to what you order. My mind is focused on other things.” He turned to look at Kurt with mock seduction at his last sentence.

“I’ll eat anything,” Kurt replied, and even if it wasn’t otherwise true he would have said it anyway.

Only the grandeur and opulence of the house could momentarily distract him from Blaine. He stared, a little slack jawed, up at the high ceiling.

“This is the foyer,” Blaine said and took him by the wrist. “Come on.”

Blaine led him around the first floor of the house, through two living rooms and a sitting room, a formal dining room and even a couple of bathrooms, Kurt’s mouth never quite closing.

They ended in the kitchen, which smelled amazing. “It’s a peanut pad Thai thing,” Blaine waved at the stove. “I thought we should take a break from Americanized Italian. You’re not allergic to peanuts, are you?” he frowned.

“No, and it smells delicious.” Kurt tried desperately to think of something normal to say. “Am I allowed to stuff myself or should I be demure?” There, that was good, maybe.

Blaine smiled. “Maybe you should wait until you taste it before making a commitment.” A timer went off and he rushed to the pans. “Go sit at the table. I’ll bring you a plate.”

Kurt was glad for the break, for the few seconds it gave him to remind himself to breathe. It wasn’t until he went back into the dining room alone that he realized for the first time that the whole house was dimly lit, in a sort of Breadstix-after-8-PM way. And he noticed that there were candles flickering on the table. How had he not seen that before?

Blaine hummed a vaguely familiar song in the kitchen, which Kurt couldn’t help but smile at. A minute later he emerged and sat a plate before Kurt, steaming with hot food. “Okay,” he said, taking a seat across from Kurt and leaving about ten other seats empty. “Eat fast, I still have to give you the upstairs tour.”

Kurt took a hesitant bite and thought that there probably wasn’t anything upstairs except bedrooms, but didn’t say anything.

“I’m not trying to be weird, but I really do have something to show you in my room,” Blaine said. “And it’s not my naked body.”

Kurt only barely just managed to not choke on noodles and spit or splutter all over him. “Oh,” he said, after a long drink of water.

“I’m honestly not trying to freak you out. I don’t have any ulterior motives, I just wanted to more spend time with you. Alone.”

Kurt nodded and hoped he wasn’t as red as he felt. “I know. I want to spend more time with you, too.”

“I wish you wouldn’t be so embarrassed around me. I know I’m not helping when I keep teasing you, but I want you know you can do or say anything to me, and I won’t laugh at you, or judge you at all. You don’t ever have to worry about what I think. I only think good things about you. I promise.”

Kurt took a slow, deep breath and then, barely above a whisper, said, “I think I just want you to like me. To be impressed with me.”

“I have liked you and have been impressed with you since you came to see me at the hospital the first time. Since you held my hand when you didn’t even know me.”

“I felt entitled to. We’re soulmates, right?”

Blaine smiled. “Right.”

“Besides, I’m just nervous because I’ve never done something like this before. I mean, no one’s ever cooked me dinner or lit candles for me before.”

“I’m not used to it either. I’ve never done anything like this. That’s probably why I keep making stupid jokes.”

“You must be more used to it than me,” Kurt said with a frown. “You had a boyfriend before.”

“I barely had a boyfriend before. We almost never saw each other outside of school, and when we did we were with a million other friends. And we never talked about anything real. I’m sure he didn’t even like me.”

“But you liked him?”

“I thought I did, until I woke up in the hospital and found out he’d never come to visit me. Even less when I found out Cooper called him a hundred times and told him to come, and he still wouldn’t.”

“Maybe he loved you so much he couldn’t bear to see you so sick and vulnerable,” Kurt said.

“I think it’s more like my being sick was too inconvenient for him. He didn’t want to deal with real problems. He wanted me to be easy.” Blaine paused and took Kurt’s hand. “It wasn’t a real relationship, and nothing close to love ever happened for either of us. I don’t think he even considered me his boyfriend. Please don’t worry about him. Don’t even think about him. When I moved back home I told him about you, and he seemed happy to get rid of me.”

“Then he doesn’t deserve you,” Kurt said, which made Blaine smile. They looked at each other for a long moment, forgetting dinner.

Blaine broke the gaze first. “Do you like it?”

“Um,” Kurt said. “Oh, the food? It’s delicious, really.”

“Good,” Blaine smiled. 

They ate for a while in silence. But not a weird silence. Kurt spent the time thinking about everything between himself and Blaine. Everything that had happened, up until that very minute. It was because they could sit comfortably in silence, just to think, that made him happier than anything else. He thought about the little things that happened every time they saw each other; things he didn’t notice until much later. Like the comfortable silence. Like Blaine humming a song to himself, like he felt he was alone, even though he knew Kurt could hear him. Like the way Kurt felt every time Blaine looked at him, like no one had ever really seen him before that moment.

When Kurt made a substantial dent in his dinner, Blaine took his plate. “Okay, you’re done. Right?”

“Right.”

“Let’s go upstairs.” Blaine took the dishes into the kitchen and Kurt waited behind for him. He looked around the empty room and thought of Blaine’s family. “Your parents are out of town, right?”

“Yeah,” Blaine answered from the adjoining room. “New York. Business. Only my dad has to go, but my mom always goes with him to stay in the nice hotels.”

Nicer than this? Kurt wondered. “Where’s Cooper?”

“Back in L.A., where he belongs.”

“Does he ever act in anything… else?” Kurt asked.

“Nope. Well, he tries. Maybe some day.” Blaine reemerged, and took Kurt’s wrist again, leading him to the staircase in the foyer. “Just so you know, he’s only nice in the face of apparent tragedy. When I’m not sick he’s an asshole.”

“I don’t believe you. He seemed so nice. He was really, really worried about you.”

“Yeah, he doesn’t want me to die. How sweet.”

“I think he really loves you. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“Maybe.” Blaine stopped at the first door on the right when they ascended the stairs, and threw the door open. “Ta da!”

Kurt stepped in, his arms self consciously crossed over his chest. Blaine flipped a light switch and he could see a big bed, a dresser, closet, a desk, a TV and stereo system, books and CDs stacked here and there. Normal things. Kurt nodded. “It’s nice! What am I supposed to be looking at?”

“Sit down,” Blaine answered, and pushed him gently back onto the bed.

Kurt tried to sit on the edge of it as much as was possible. “You’re sure you’re not going to start stripping?” he asked, not sure how he was competent enough to joke.

“Positive. Wait here.” And Blaine was gone, out the door and down the hall somewhere.

Kurt waited. He thought about snooping around, checking notebooks to see what Blaine had written or what he kept hidden in his sock drawers, but he was too nice to actually do it. Eventually Blaine returned. He leaned against the doorframe with a piece of paper in his hand and smiled at Kurt from there.

Kurt smiled back at him, and then asked, “What are we smiling about?”

“I always wanted a cute boy in my bed,” Blaine said, and didn’t let Kurt answer or even try to come up with an answer. He crossed the room and held the paper out. “Look.”

Kurt took it and examined it. It was a little crumpled and had some small tears. It had a lot of information about Blaine’s birth at the top: the day and time, the hospital name in Lima, how much he weighed, his full name, his parents’ names. It had an ink print of his foot, taken the day he was born. And at the bottom was a short paragraph, simple and to the point. “While not legally obligated,” it said, it recommended Blaine “align” himself with “one Kurt Hummel, born in the fourth week of May, 1993, in Lima, Ohio.” And that was it.

“Wow,” Kurt said after reading it five times. “This doesn’t answer any of my questions at all.”

“It is vague,” Blaine agreed, and sat next to him on the edge of the bed.

Kurt looked at him, realizing then how close he was. “You could have made this in Photoshop.”

Blaine laughed and snatched it away from him. “Shut up. I’ve guarded this paper with my life for almost ten years. Besides, I don’t know your birthday.”

“You saw my driver’s license,” Kurt pointed out.

“Oh,” Blaine said. “Shit.”

“Don’t worry,” Kurt smiled. “I believe it. I’m just joking.”

“I hope so.” Blaine seemed genuinely worried.

“And look at us now. We’ve… ‘aligned.’”

“Kurt… I have a confession to make. I had one, very small, ulterior motive to tonight.”

“Oh?” Kurt asked, wondering if he should run for the door.

“Don’t get nervous! I just wanted… tonight… to show you the certificate, and to tell you… or ask you, really… if—”

“Oh, God,” Kurt said. ‘If you can’t even say it, I’ll never be able to.”

“If I could have your first kiss, now. Please. Please?”

Kurt sighed.

Blaine frowned. “What?”

“Someone stole it from you.”

A wave of various emotions passed over Blaine’s face, and finally he stood. “You kissed someone else? Since those texts, about the first kissing?”

“No!” Kurt grabbed Blaine by the hips and pulled him back to sitting. “No, I didn’t kiss anyone.” He jumped back when he realized he was touching Blaine, like he’d touched a hot stove. “It was taken from me, too. I didn’t want it.”

“People can’t really forcibly kiss you, Kurt,” Blaine snapped at him. But at the hurt look on Kurt’s face he said more gently, “Can they? Did someone force you to kiss them?”

Kurt shook his head. “It’s getting late. I should go.”

“No!” Blaine protested. “Talk to me! What happened?”

Kurt, quietly and without emotion, gave a short recap of the Dave Karofsky incident. He’d already mentioned him to Blaine before, but things hadn’t gotten quite so out of hand until recently.

“Why didn’t you tell me before now?” Blaine asked.

Kurt shrugged. “I haven’t told anyone.”

“But I’m not just anyone,” Blaine said, and hoped Kurt understood.

“And I didn’t want to out him. And…”

“And?”

“And he said if I told anyone… he would…” Kurt sighed and didn’t finish.

“He threatened you?”

“It was just a threat, I think. He wouldn’t actually… I don’t know, kill me.”

“Kurt!” Blaine was astonished. “You have to tell your principal, your dad, and probably the police.” He paused, thinking about it. “Definitely the police.”

“But that would involve telling people, which is what I’m _not_ supposed to do.” He shook his head. “But you’re right. I know. I will.”

“You can’t put it off. You have to do it, like, now.”

“Now?” Kurt laughed, a little bitterly. “I guess I’ve officially thought of the most obnoxious way to ruin the mood. I just wanted you to know it would be my second kiss, not my first.”

“It doesn’t count, whatever he did. It doesn’t count at all.”

“It was really, really bad, anyway,” Kurt said, looking down at his nails.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, getting him to look up. Without another word, Blaine leaned forward and kissed him. It was intentionally slow and soft, and the least scary as he could make it.

Both of them felt it, an indescribably feeling that pulled them close together and made them never want to part. It made kissing each other feel like home. It was something familiar, like they’d done it a million times before but never got tired of it. And both of them realized they missed kissing each other even though they’d never done it before.

Blaine pulled away first, but he stayed close, only inches from Kurt’s lips. 

“Blaine,” Kurt whispered. “Are you worried the bully at school might kill me because it means you could be in danger, too?”

“No,” Blaine whispered back. “I’m worried because I love you.”

Kurt kissed Blaine the second time. It was different than the first. The feeling was the same, but this time whatever wall that had once stood between them had come down. Maybe they had kissed a million times before, in other lives, but now they were acutely aware of what they missed. There was a pain, a hunger, a little fight to reclaim each other after so long. It was like being reintroduced to a drug they used to be addicted to.

And maybe they never would have stopped if Kurt’s phone didn’t ring. When he pulled away from Blaine he realized he was practically in his lap. It would be prudent, he realized too late, to not throw himself at him. So he backed up an inch and answered his phone breathlessly.

“Hello?

“You have five minutes to get home. You’d better be on the road, but I hope you aren’t, because then you’d be driving while talking on the phone, and that’s against the rules,” Burt said.

“What? It’s 11 already?”

“It’s 10:55.”

Kurt sighed and looked at Blaine who mouthed “sorry.”

“What were you doing that kept you so unaware of the time?” Burt asked.

“Um,” Kurt said, and said the second thing to come to his mind after making out. “Sleeping.”

“… What?”

“Watching a movie,” Blaine whispered.

“Watching a movie! We were watching a movie, and we fell asleep. Because it was boring.”

Blaine gave him a thumbs up.

“Huh,” Burt said. “Next time, set an alarm.”


	11. Chapter 11

“Are you absolutely sure you want to go?” Kurt asked Blaine on the phone for the hundredth time.

“Stop asking him that!” Mercedes and Rachel yelled from their places at his bathroom mirror.

“Stop asking me that, Kurt,” Blaine joked, mocking their tone. “I promise I want to go. For you.”

“But I want you to go for you!”

“I want to go for me, for you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Then stop asking him!” Mercedes yelled. Rachel, the closest, grabbed the phone from his hand.

“Hey,” Kurt whined.

“Blaine,” she said into it, “go get ready and we’ll pick you up in half an hour. You have permission to come to the post-prom slumber party, right?” She waited for his response and smiled. “Good! We’ll see you soon.” She hung up and gave the phone to Mercedes, who put it in the tub, out of Kurt’s reach.

Kurt frowned at his reflection in the mirror. It was little consolation that he looked absolutely fantastic when he felt so glum. “I don’t think he wants to go.”

“He does want to go, he wants to give you the perfect prom experience despite his own personal reservations,” Rachel said.

“Despite the fact that he left his last school dance with a broken arm and pulp for a face,” Kurt corrected. “And I don’t know that people at McKinley will actually leave us alone anyway. What if someone does something, and freaks him out, and he goes into a coma, or something?”

“You need to relax,” Mercedes said. “I doubt anyone will do anything, except maybe whisper and stare. And I’m 100% sure Blaine has prepared for that. And so have you, right?”

“Right,” Kurt agreed miserably.

“Cheer up!” Rachel demanded, clipping the last sparkling barrette into her hair. “We’re…”

“Are you guys coming or what?” Finn yelled from downstairs. 

“We’re getting old down here,” Artie said.

“Prom is probably already over,” Sam added.

“We’re coming!” Rachel, Mercedes and Kurt called back, annoyed.

“Anyway,” Rachel said, her smile returning, “We’re going to have so much fun you’ll have fun coming out of your ears. Now smile!” she said, and half slapped him in the face.

“Ow!” Kurt clasped his hand to his cheek.

“Shut up, you loved it.” She stood and Mercedes followed. “Let’s go!”

Mercedes winked at him and helped him to his feet. He was still in mild shock. “I think she had too much coffee,” she whispered.

The whole glee club shared a limo to prom. Most of them met at Kurt and Finn’s house, but they had to stop to pick up Quinn, Tina, Mike and Blaine. By the time they got to Blaine’s house they were over an hour later than the half hour Rachel had told him.

When the car stopped at his door everyone leaned over Kurt’s lap to look out the window at his house.

“Wow,” Finn said.

“He’s a billionaire,” Artie said, awed.

“No he’s… actually I don’t know,” Kurt said.

Everyone looked at him expectantly.

“What? I can’t go get him.”

“You have to!” everyone, especially the girls, yelled.

“Maybe his mom wants to take pictures of you guys,” Tina added.

“No, she… but… but… wait…” was all he could say before he was bodily pushed out of the car.

He stood awkwardly between the front door of Blaine’s house and the car full of his friends, not sure what to do. Luckily the door opened before he had to knock, and Blaine emerged. But someone called his name from inside, and he stopped. There was some muffled yelling, and Blaine said “yeah, yeah,” and shut the door.

Kurt could tell he was sad even though he was smiling. He stopped before Kurt and straightened his tie. “Hi there,” he said.

“Hi,” Kurt replied. “I didn’t think I should come in, but…”

“No, you shouldn’t come in,” Blaine smiled, and dropped a hand to Kurt’s chest where his heart was. “It’s okay. Let’s go.”

Finn, Rachel and Mercedes had already met Blaine, but the rest of them took to him immediately. It was impossible not to like him, Kurt supposed, and he always knew exactly what to talk to people about. He was half on the way to becoming best friends with Puck by the time they arrived at school.

On the way in Blaine linked his arm with Kurt’s, but when they approached a big group of students he let go again. “Sorry,” he said quietly. “I’m trying to be supportive and not attract attention at the same time.”

“It’s okay,” Kurt replied and quickly squeezed his hand. “Don’t be sorry.”

Of course, what inevitably happened that night was a testament to how much Kurt and the other glee club members always seemed to underestimate the bullies of McKinley. Kurt would have vastly preferred the whispers and stares Mercedes predicted when, instead, he was crowned prom queen. It was Blaine who convinced him he was brave enough to go back in and accept it, and it was Blaine who offered to dance with him, effectively saving him from even worse humiliation and somehow making him feel good about himself in the process. Who else in the whole world was even capable of doing that? And all while he was in a bad mood, himself. Kurt could see all night long that Blaine was in a bad mood.

“I do look good in this crown,” Kurt said while they danced, trying to get Blaine to smile. “I should have worn one here in the first place, to compliment my outfit.”

“You look beautiful,” Blaine said with wide, honest eyes. “Handsome. Beautiful. I should have told you before.”

Kurt ducked his head with a smile. “Thank you. You look beautiful, too.”

The song changed to something more upbeat then. Kurt was about to really get into it when Blaine pulled him close, a hand at the small of his back, and whispered into his ear, “Can we leave now? Please?”

“Oh… okay,” Kurt said. “But we’re sharing the limo with everyone else, and—”

“Then come outside with me. I just need some air.”

They went out a back door, behind the punch table, and didn’t even notice the gaggle of hockey players who watched them go.

Outside the air was cool and clear, much better than inside the gym. No one was outside, but sad little remnants of torn streamers and red plastic cups blew around on the ground.

Blaine slid against the brick wall of the school to sit on the ground, and Kurt sat next to him. “If we were cool we’d have cigarettes for times like these,” Kurt said.

As if on cue a couple came outside, went to the far corner of the building, and lit cigarettes.

“We’re not cool enough,” Blaine shook his head. “I’m sorry I’m being so lame.”

“You’re not—” Kurt protested.

“I just knew something bad was going to happen,” Blaine ignored him. “I wish it hadn’t been totally on you. Maybe I could find out everyone who put your name on the ballots and kick their asses.”

“Or handcuff them to desks and give them a really eloquent pro-tolerence speech,” Kurt offered.

Blaine sighed. “That sounds more like my style of torture.” He was still frowning, and stared into the distance. When the door to the gym creaked open again they assumed it would be more smokers, and didn’t even turn to look at them.

“It’s fine, Blaine,” Kurt tried to assure him. “I’m really okay. If anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d—”

He stopped, out of shock, when suddenly a wash of cold, red liquid was dumped over his head. It streamed from his eyelashes and chin. It soaked his suit and pooled in his shoes. It was so cold that he stopped breathing for a few seconds. And a little stupidly, he wondered if it had only happened to him. Maybe none of it even touched Blaine. But when he looked up he saw Blaine just as soaked in red as he was. It ran in a steady stream off the tip of his nose, and he wiped it out of his eyes.

Kurt turned to look at the hockey players, who stepped back to appreciate their work, one of them holding Sue Sylvester’s, now empty, punch bowl. Kurt and Blaine sat there, frozen in shock. The team realized they’d completely gotten away with it. They laughed and high-fived one another, and started walking away. Not back into the school, but farther into the parking lot, where they could get into their cars, drive away from prom night, and never face the consequences of their actions.

Without thinking, except of Blaine, Kurt stood and furiously marched after them. When they gained distance, he ran after them. He wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of all of them, despite the fact that he was so small and was morally against violence. It didn’t matter, in this case. They were asking for a fight, and he was going to bring it.

He vaguely heard Blaine yelling his name from behind, begging him to stop. Blaine. Blaine, who was sick and fragile. What if they’d triggered something in him that put him back into the hospital? What if they’d really hurt him? These were hulking, perfectly healthy boys who didn’t deserve the perfect conditions their bodies were in, as much as Blaine did. They deserved to be as hurt as they’d hurt Blaine, or even more so.

Kurt targeted in on one in particular, the nearest to him, who he thought he could get to before he reached the safety of his car. But he just barely missed him. The boy had laughed at first when he saw Kurt approaching, but no matter Kurt’s size, it was a little intimidating to take on someone sprinting toward you at top speed. He got into his car and shut the door at the last second, so that Kurt’s fingers just hit the glass of the window on his driver’s side door.

Before Kurt ran entirely into the car, and possibly broke some of his own bones, Blaine caught up to him and wrapped his arms around Kurt’s waist from behind, pulling him to a stop. Kurt struggled against him, trying to break free, and heard Blaine yell for Finn. Somewhere in his rational mind Kurt wondered how Blaine expected Finn, dancing back in the gym, to hear him, but only moments later bigger and stronger arms, Finn’s, were holding him back. Between the two of them Kurt didn’t stand a chance of getting at the hockey player, but he didn’t stop struggling until his car was a speck in the distance. The guy even had the nerve to flip him off before he squealed his tires and sped away.

Finn let go of Kurt finally, when no more danger loomed, but Blaine kept his arms around him. “Oh my God,” Finn said, getting a good look at them. “What happened?”

“What happened?” a voice echoed from farther away. It was Puck, jogging toward them.

Kurt turned to look at Blaine. “You asked them for help?”

“Well, I probably couldn’t have done it myself,” Blaine said.

“We were all trying to keep an eye on you guys, to make sure nothing happened,” Finn said. “But we can’t watch you when you sneak outside.”

“I don’t need help!” Kurt yelled at him. “ _We_ don’t need any help! We should be allowed to sneak wherever we want, and do whatever we want, and not be attacked!”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Kurt,” Finn said, trying to calm him down.

Puck whistled at the sight of them. “Those hockey shits did this? Just wait until Monday.”

“We don’t need you to get revenge for us!” Kurt yelled at Puck this time. “I should have done it myself!”

“Wait a minute,” Puck said, clearly not listening. “How did they get the punch bowl away from Sue? They must have kidnapped her.” He squinted into some nearby trees, like perhaps Sue might be tied up in them.

Behind him some of the girls started to make their way toward them, led by Rachel.

“I guess we’ve sufficiently ruined prom for everyone,” Blaine said, bleakly.

“No, it’s not your fault,” Finn said.

“Kurt!” Rachel yelled when she saw the state of him, and grabbed his arm. “Let’s go inside, we can wash it off in the bathroom.”

“No,” Kurt pulled his arm free from her. “I’m not going back inside. You guys go back, and have fun. Blaine and I will take a cab back, or I’ll call my dad to pick us up.”

“No!” most of them protested. 

Finn said, “If you guys are leaving, we’re all leaving. This prom kind of blows anyway.”

“Yeah,” Tina smiled at them, trying to soften the mood. “Let’s start the post-prom slumber party. It’ll be way more fun than this.”

Kurt wasn’t sure if they were lying or not, but eventually everyone piled, early, into the limo, and it made its way back to Kurt and Finn’s house.

At some point Blaine had stopped talking. They sat close in the back of the limo. Kurt took Blaine’s hand, but Blaine made no response. He didn’t say anything, or look at Kurt, or even blink.

“Are you mad at me?” Kurt whispered in his ear, the first thing he could think of.

Blaine frowned and shook his head.

“Are you okay?” Kurt asked next. He could feel Blaine shivering. The punch was setting into their clothes and making them sticky and stiff, but it was still as cold as ever.

Blaine just shrugged one shoulder, which wasn’t a good enough answer for Kurt. He pulled him closer. Blaine reciprocated by draping his legs over Kurt’s lap and laying his head on Kurt’s chest. Kurt combed his fingers through Blaine’s hair, which was starting to curl and turn hard from the punch. He was pleased to find none of his friends batted an eye at them. They were all smiling, and talking amongst themselves, lost in their own worlds.

“I’m sorry,” Kurt whispered to Blaine. “I knew you didn’t want to go. You knew we’d get hurt.”

“We’re not hurt,” Blaine whispered back. “We’re okay.”

The whole glee club streamed through the Hudson-Hummel’s front door, with Kurt and Blaine in the back. They were loud and obnoxious, and Burt herded them into the basement. “No drinking,” he yelled over their chatter, “no loud music, no making out. You two!” He snapped at Kurt and Blaine, who were going upstairs rather than down. “No couples in bedrooms. It goes for everyone. Get downstairs.”

Kurt turned to look expressionless at his father. Only then Burt noticed they were filthy and dyed pink. “Kurt…”

“Dad,” Kurt cut him off, wanting to talk first. “Blaine and I had an awful night, and we want to be alone. I hope you respect me enough to let me wash away a whole school’s worth of sugared beverage without falling into a teenaged hormonal rage and sleeping with Blaine under your nose. I’m not trying to break the rules. I’m not trying to be rebelious. Just…” Kurt sighed, exasperated, and looked at Finn and Rachel, who were lagging behind to listen to his speech. “Please, just leave us alone.”

No one, not even Burt, said anything in reply, so Kurt turned on his heel and pulled Blaine upstairs, which was what he’d been trying to do in the first place.


	12. Chapter 12

Kurt went into his room first, to grab his softest pajamas for Blaine to borrow. Then he got a towel from the linen closet, piled everything in Blaine’s arms, and led him to the bathroom.

Blaine was still quiet, and in a strange mood that Kurt couldn’t figure out, unless to assume it was his way of coping. “You can take a shower first,” Blaine said. “I’ll wait in your room.”

“No. You go first, I’ll wait.”

Blaine sighed. “Okay. I’ll be fast.” He moved to enter the bathroom, but stopped and apparently changed his mind. He grabbed Kurt’s hand. “Come in with me for a second.”

Before Kurt could protest, or think about whether or not he wanted to protest, Blaine pulled him into the bathroom behind him and closed the door.

Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt and pulled him close, nuzzling his nose into Kurt’s neck. “I don’t want to leave you yet,” he mumbled into Kurt’s skin, almost unintelligibly. 

“You’re not leaving me just by taking a shower,” Kurt said. “I’ll be right outside.”

“Or you could take a shower with me,” Blaine mumbled, even quieter than before.

Kurt smiled and blushed at the same time. “But we… there are rules… and I can’t… renege on the honorable speech I just gave my dad two minutes ago.”

“That was a lovely speech,” Blaine agreed, and started kissing Kurt’s neck instead of talking into it.

“Blaine,” Kurt protested, but didn’t actually do anything to stop him. He actually tilted his head back, to lean against the door, to give him better access to his throat. But when Blaine’s hands dropped down Kurt’s back, to his waist, and then lower, Kurt gently pushed him back. “Blaine,” he said, more seriously. “You… you’re freezing. You’re shivering! Stop procrastinating and get in the shower.”

“But you’re all sugary and sweet and taste like punch,” Blaine pouted, and kissed him on the lips instead.

“Mmph,” Kurt said. “Be that as it may, we need to get clean and warm and you need to never use the word ‘punch’ again. I’m boycotting it, and possibly all fruit drinks, for the rest of my life.”

“Hey,” Blaine said and frowned, like something particularly concerning just occurred to him. “Can we talk about sex?”

“Um,” Kurt faltered. “Okay… but,” he pointed, “you’re just trying to avoid telling me something.”

“What am I avoiding telling you?”

“That you had a fight with your parents,” Kurt said, because he was sure their yelling at him when he picked him up for prom was what started Blaine’s bad mood.

“Maybe,” Blaine nodded. “But now I just really want to talk about sex.”

Kurt put his heels against the door and tried to remain in control of both his body and emotions. Be strong, he told himself. And don’t ask him why this conversation is happening during the post-prom slumber party, with all of his friends, brother, and parents, somewhere nearby. While they were standing in a bathroom. Covered in punch. “I’m listening.”

“We’re been together for six months, now,” Blaine began.

“That is not true,” Kurt interrupted. “We’ve been together for four months. We’ve known each other for six months.”

“You, as my soulmate, have been in my life for six months,” Blaine corrected. “And I’ve been in love with you all my life.”

“But before you saw me, I was just imaginary. I probably had more muscles and a big manly beard.”

“You’re perfect and everything I ever wanted.”

“I…” Kurt said. “That’s… thank you.”

“I would like to use this opportunity to remind you you still have my virginity on lockdown, and that I wouldn’t complain if you cashed it in sometime soon.”

“That… was like, three different metaphors,” Kurt said. “And it’s hard to take you seriously when you’re covered in dried punch. You look like a pink alien.”

Blaine’s shoulders slumped. Defeated, he turned toward the shower. “Fine, leave. I’ll just…” he stopped when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. “Oh my God,” he said, moderately horrified. “My hair.”

Kurt smiled. “I like it like that.”

“What was in that punch, shampoo?”

“Maybe,” Kurt said, and sighed. “We do live like we’re in a fifties sitcom, don’t we? If we were adults and lived on our own, I’d probably make you sleep in a separate twin bed.”

“Yeah, but more importantly, _my hair_ ,” Blaine said. He attempted to furiously re-flatten it with water and his fingers.

“Well, I can’t help that I’m so shy. And I am still trying to impress you, even though you say I don’t have to.”

“Oh my God,” Blaine whispered, still about his hair.

“Just because we’re soulmates doesn’t mean we can’t completely ruin what we have. If you ask me, we probably rushed into dating too soon. We were really good friends, and now if we ever break up, we’ll never get that back.”

“Oh my God,” Blaine replied, louder this time. He put his hands out, questioning the purpose of a universe that allowed his hair to get so messed up. “Is there hair gel _anywhere_ in this house?”

“But you’re right. I want more, and I know you do, too. And I’m not actually _that_ scared of you, or the thought of us together, like that, if I really think about it. I trust you, and I do… want you. A lot. Maybe all the time.”

Blaine stopped pulling at his hair and shifted his gaze to look at Kurt in the mirror. “Really?”

“But we can’t just go at it now, like animals. This is love. We don’t know what we’re doing. We have to work up to it.”

Blaine took a step toward the shower and gestured toward it. Yes, it was obvious. They were filthy, no one was going to bother them all night. All they had to do was get in together.

Kurt thought about it. “I can’t,” he said. “I’m sorry.” He couldn’t stand it if Blaine tried to talk him into it, so he turned quick and fled down the hall, back into his own room.

He sat on his bed for a moment, breathing hard and feeling like his heart was breaking. He was sure he’d made the wrong choice. Of course Blaine would be angry at him. Maybe the breakup he’d just warned of would happen a lot soon than he ever dreamed.

After a few minutes he heard the shower turn on down the hall. He decided to turn on some music, to help calm his nerves and to hopefully make things less awkward when Blaine returned. Music always made them feel better.

When he came back he had a towel on his head and looked a little out of place in Kurt’s pajamas. “It’s all yours,” he said, meaning the shower, and Kurt couldn’t tell if he was mad or not.

The water pooled red around his feet for almost five minutes before it went clear and he began to feel remotely clean again. He tried to convince himself it was a psychological cleansing, too. Prom was over. It was done. He wasn’t going to regret it.

When he went back to his room Blaine was settling into a makeshift bed of blankets on the floor.

“You’re not sleeping down there,” Kurt told him, and climbed into bed. “Get up here.”

“I don’t know…” Blaine said, but Kurt held out his hand, and Blaine took it. Kurt pulled the blankets up over them both when Blaine slid in beside him. He couldn't fight the urge to keep him safe and healthy and warm, as far as it was in his power to.

They rested on their sides and looked into each other’s eyes for a while, not saying anything. Somewhere downstairs there was a loud crash, a burst of laughter, and then dance music pounded through the air. Kurt and Blaine couldn’t help but laugh.

“Do you want to go downstairs with them?” Kurt asked. “It’s probably a lot better than being up here.”

“Not even a little bit,” Blaine answered with a smile.

Kurt decided to be brave. He rolled over on top of Blaine and put a hand to his cheek. Blaine seemed pleased by this. He smiled again and shifted under Kurt so they fit together better.

“I love you, you know,” Kurt whispered.

“I know.”

“Maybe we could… try something…”

Blaine lifted his head to pull Kurt into a deep kiss. When they managed to pull apart again he whispered, “I’m all yours.”

Kurt kissed him again. Next to his bed a sweet, sad song played on his stereo. Outside, downstairs, the same top 40 dance hit vibrated through the whole house on repeat. He could hear his friends laughing and yelling and doing everything they could to annoy Burt. It was comforting to know they were all there, happy and safe and providing, even if they didn’t know it, a whole night for Kurt and Blaine to spend together, alone. 

Kurt hesitantly, experimentally, rolled his hips against Blaine’s, and that seemed to please him, too. He hadn’t actually purposefully given Blaine pajamas made of thin cotton, other than because it was a warm almost-summer night, but he was glad he’d done it in hindsight.

Blaine had his legs on either side of Kurt and he bent them at the knees. “Do that again,” he breathed, and made a little moan when Kurt obliged. It was definitely and suddenly the best sound Kurt had ever heard. He was sorry they’d waited six months to try this.

Kurt would have been happy to move against Blaine that way all night, but Blaine had other ideas, and was braver than Kurt. First he moved his hands down to Kurt’s waist, trying to complete what he started in the bathroom. Kurt tried to imitate him, felt like an idiot, and tried not to show it.

Then Blaine was the first to slip his fingers under the waistband of Kurt’s pajama bottoms but didn’t go very far without saying first, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

“I’ll let you know,” Kurt said, and hoped his voice didn’t sound ridiculous, because he could hardly breathe.

And every time Blaine touched a part of him that he once would have been terrified at the thought of, he found himself leaning in to his touches, trying to feel more, faster. He didn’t have a plan when he pulled Blaine into bed with him, but he did not expect to have his hands in Blaine’s underwear in a matter of minutes. That was, like, eight month anniversary material. Or ten. Or a year. Or five years. But it was so easy to keep going once he started, and Blaine was so warm and cute and shivering with pleasure beneath him that nothing in him wanted to stop.

“Wait,” Blaine whispered after a while, and Kurt froze. He hoped he hadn’t done anything weird that Blaine didn’t like.

But Blaine reached up instead, and pulled at the hem of Kurt’s shirt. “Take this off.” After Kurt obliged, Blaine said, “Take everything off.”

“Only if you do, too,” Kurt replied, which wasn’t logically a means to make him feel any more comfortable. He just didn’t want to be the only naked one.

“Okay,” Blaine said simply. They both sat up and leaned in odd angles to pull their clothes off without getting out of bed.

Kurt caught Blaine looking at him once everything was off, but Blaine didn’t blush or look away, so Kurt tried to gather the courage to look at Blaine’s body, too. It was one of the last remaining firsts left for them, before everything became familiar and commonplace in their relationship.

When looking lapsed into staring and they seriously needed to stop, Blaine gestured toward himself. “Come here.”

They stayed sitting up. Blaine leaned his back against the headboard and Kurt slid into his lap, wrapping his legs around Blaine’s waist. The feeling of their bodies touching without any fabric between them was infinitely better. Kurt was about to turn into a blubbering mess with one touch.

“We’re not having real sex,” he whispered into Blaine’s ear, and rolled his hips into Blaine’s again.

“No, not tonight,” Blaine said. “We’re working up to it.”

Their hands drifted back down to the right places again, and being virgin teenage boys, neither of them lasted long at all. But neither of them cared. After orgasming together they slowed down, their movements concluding the same way they’d started, with slow rocking of their bodies together, until they were both so tired they had to stop completely. Kurt rolled off Blaine, back to his side where he’d been in the first place. He realized the pounding dance music had stopped, but he didn’t remember when exactly it’d happened.

He was tired, but he was nowhere near as tired as Blaine seemed when he looked at him again. Blaine was almost asleep. Kurt smiled and nudged him. “Did I really wear you out that much?”

“Mmhm,” Blaine mumbled, his eyes closed.

Kurt sat up on his elbows. “It’s your crazy sleeping disease. I didn’t put you into one of your pseudo comas, did I? I could never explain that to your father…”

Blaine frowned. “‘M fine. Just… just give me until morning.”

Kurt had a half formed idea about showering right away, in case anyone came into his room before morning. But Blaine was out cold. He was sleep-breathing seconds after he spoke.

Kurt sighed. “Fine,” he whispered to himself. He leaned over Blaine to turn off the lamp next to his bed, which did nothing to wake him up. He snuggled back into the blankets and decided to use this rare opportunity to cuddle up to the bare skin of his boyfriend. His soulmate. It was a moment he didn’t really expect he’d get until they were adults, living in their own place. Ordinarily he would have considered how dangerous it was. Not only were they naked in his bed with his family in the house, but about ten of his friends were in the house, too. Anything could happen. But he wasn’t in a normal frame of mind, and he trusted all of them to give them their privacy. At least for one night.

Kurt wound his legs around Blaine’s and put his nose against Blaine’s nose. He admired his pretty eyelashes for a while before his eyes drifted to a tiny scar on his chin. He’d noticed it before and always assumed it was from shaving. But then he saw another scar, the same size and the same color, on Blaine’s forehead. Kurt had never seen that one before, because his hair usually covered it up when it was styled properly. It was tiny. It was almost insignificant. But it hit Kurt like a punch.

“Blaine!” he yelled, and shook his shoulders.

This was the first thing Kurt did all night that did _not_ please Blaine at all. He could hardly open his eyes. “What? What’s going on?”

“Where did you get those scars?” Kurt asked, pointing at his face.

“What?” Blaine rubbed his chin. “What… what? Oh…” He paused a moment, trying to wake up enough to use real words. “It was glass. Bottle to the head. Sadie Hawkins dance.”

“Blaine!” Kurt yelled even louder. His whole body shook at the realization. “That’s it! You have… _had_ a head wound! But it’s still affecting you! It’s like… like a prolonged concussion, or something. Can that happen?”

“I don’t know, Kurt,” he whined, and dropped his head back to the pillow. “I have to sleep.”

“But… have you told your doctors you were hit in the head? You hear all the time that brains do crazy things, and how dangerous head wounds are. You could have a traumatic brain injury, or something! Maybe your brain was hurt, and it gets confused every time you’re sick or… or overexert yourself, and tells your body to shut down so you can recuperate faster. Your brain thinks you’re more hurt, or sick, or tired, than you really are.”

“Wasn’t that serious,” Blaine mumbled, his eyes closed already.

“But you don’t know! It could have done more damage than you knew! More than the doctors saw! You need your head scanned.”

“I’ve had all the tests done.”

“Then it must be something doctors can’t see from the tests. But that has to be it. If you don’t care, then I’m calling your doctors tomorrow and telling them myself.”

Blaine smiled and reached his hand out to Kurt. “Come back. I’m getting cold.”

Kurt laid down next to him again, and cuddled up next to him as he had been, but his heart was still racing. He felt like he’d figured out the answer. He felt like now the doctors would be able to fix Blaine, and save him.

When he was close enough Blaine pressed a kiss to Kurt’s forehead. “Fall asleep with me.”

Kurt didn’t think he’d ever be able to sleep again, but he set a quiet alarm on his phone anyway. It woke him at 5 in the morning, proving him wrong. He’d fallen asleep.

Blaine was frowning again, and trying to open his eyes. “What is that awful sound?”

“An alarm,” Kurt said. “We need to take showers and get dressed. Before we get caught.”

Blaine sighed, and then peeked at Kurt with one eye when he had an idea. “Will you take a shower with me _this time_?”

Kurt smiled. “Only because it’ll take less time and make less noise. It’s the safer option.”

Blaine took his hand. “Definitely the safer option.”


	13. Chapter 13

The glee club trickled slowly up from the basement throughout the morning, all of them looking an odd combination of angry and exhausted. They were a stark contrast to Kurt and Blaine, who were up first and had been giggling around the house for hours. Kurt sat at the table with Rachel, Mercedes, Quinn, Tina, and Mike, while Brittany, Santana and Sam took over the living room and control of the TV, and Blaine went to help Finn and Puck carry Artie and his wheelchair up the stairs.

“What’s the matter with you guys?” Kurt asked with a big smile on his face, as the others frowned at him, their hair sticking out in all directions.

“What’s _not_ the matter with you?” Mercedes snapped.

Kurt took a moment to try to figure out what that meant, and realized it was never going to happen. “Oh my God,” he dropped the volume of his voice even though he hadn’t seen Burt or Carole at all yet. “Were you guys drinking?”

They all made varying protests; disgusted faces and throwing hands up to keep him from speaking. “Don’t talk about it, Kurt,” Mike said.

Rachel looked like she was trying to hold her head on. “Just don’t talk about it.”

The front door burst open then, and Burt and Carole entered, with big boxes of donuts in their arms. “Breakfast!” Burt announced.

“Yay!” Kurt and Blaine said, but everyone else looked at the boxes like they were filled with doom.

Kurt took it upon himself to put a pastry on a plate for everyone while they squeezed unhappily around the table. He gave Rachel two, and when she threw him a questioning look he smiled and said, “You look like you’re starving.”

Kurt, Blaine, Burt and Carole ate happily while the rest picked at their donuts and tried to trade for smaller ones.

“You guys aren’t hungry?” Burt asked.

“We are,” Quinn said quickly. “It’s just…”

“We ate so much last night,” Finn saved her.

“I thought my freezer looked empty,” Carole said.

“Thanks for the pizzas,” Artie said.

“And the egg rolls,” Sam said.

“And the mac and cheese,” Brittany added.

“And the Lean Pockets,” Tina smiled.

“Oh,” Carole said, taken aback. “You’re welcome.”

“Kurt,” Burt said, turning to look at his son. “Finn told me what happened to you and Blaine last night. I gave you your space, but now it’s time to start thinking about what you’re going to do about it. I think we should all go and talk to Principal Figgins. And Finn said he’d come, too, because he saw the boys running away, and he knows who some of them are.”

Kurt didn’t speak at first, so Burt looked at Blaine. But Blaine just shrugged, and gestured to Kurt that he should be the one to make the decision.

Kurt sighed. “I know who they are, too. We all do. Well, Blaine doesn’t. But… I’m just not that upset about it anymore.”

Everyone in the room stared at him.

It… it wasn’t that big of a deal,” he tried to explain. “It didn’t hurt us. It was just a prank, and I’ve let it go. I’m moving on with my life.”

“Are you sure?” Finn asked.

“You were both really upset about it last night,” Burt said. “I could tell. How could you get over it in just one night?”

Well, that was a question he certainly couldn’t answer honestly. “I don’t know… Blaine and I talked about it…”

“A lot,” Blaine said. “We talked a lot.”

“All night, we were just talking,” Kurt nodded, and Blaine took a bite of donut and averted his eyes. “And we realized… that life is too important to let ourselves get down because of those guys.”

“Wow,” Santana deadpanned. She’d obviously seen through them the whole time.

Kurt ignored her. “Or because of a prank. We realized we need to pick our battles. If they ever do anything to really hurt or threaten us, I’ll be the first one to tell on them. But we just want to forget last night.” Most of it, he amended in his head.

“Okay,” Burt shook his head. “If that’s what you want, that’s what we’ll do.” He stood up. “I guess since you guys ate all of my food, I need to get to the grocery store.”

“I’ll go with you, I need to pick up a couple of things,” Carole said. “When I get back the basement had better be spotless.”

“Yes, ma’am,” some of them chorused.

“Where’s a secret place we can hide 20 empty bottles of wine?” Brittany asked when they were gone.

“I can’t clean yet,” Rachel said. “I can’t even touch those bottles. I can’t even say the word ‘bottle.’”

Tina sighed. “It’s so depressing now that prom is over. It’s Sunday. We have to go back to school tomorrow, and there’s not another prom for a whole year.”

“That’s why we’re having a post prom depression party at my house next weekend,” Puck said.

“We are?” Kurt asked.

“No,” Rachel said.

“Yes, damn it, Rachel, we are,” Puck said. “Kurt and Blaine’s prom was basically ruined last night, and this will be like a do-over, except with no sucky people and more alcohol.”

“No, don’t say that,” Rachel wailed and covered her ears.

“And you’ll be there, for them,” Puck insisted.

“Yeah, Rachel,” Blaine said. “It sounds fun. Do it for us.”

“Fine,” Rachel pouted. “But I am _not_ drinking anything.”

“Me either,” said everyone else at the table.

But, of course, everyone changed their minds once a week had passed.

Kurt picked up Blaine at his parents’ house that Saturday. When he got into the car he gave a slow kiss to Kurt. When Kurt tried to pull away after an appropriate time, Blaine put his hands on Kurt’s cheeks and kept him close, to draw out another few seconds.

“Wow,” Kurt said, when Blaine finally released him. “What was that for?”

“I missed you,” Blaine smiled. “I haven’t seen you since last weekend. _Last weekend_.”

“Oh that,” Kurt waved a hand as he pulled back onto the road. “I almost forgot.”

Blaine jabbed him in the side. “Shut up.”

Kurt laughed. “Or maybe I’ve been thinking about it every second of every day.”

“That’s much better. Hey, I finally got ahold of my doctor in Columbus.”

“What did he say? About my theory?” Kurt bounced in his seat.

“He said it, like everything, is possible, but if we can’t prove it through tests there’s nothing he can do about it. He can’t treat me for something he doesn’t know for sure that I have, and even if he wanted to experiment he wouldn’t know where to start.”

Kurt sighed. “No. No, that is not the answer I want.”

“It’s not what I want either, but… for now, there’s nothing we can do about it. We can’t control it. For what it’s worth, I believe you. I think you’re probably right. I’m going to keep pushing it on every doctor I see for the rest of my life, until one of them figures it out.”

Kurt just pouted, so Blaine patted him on the thigh. “Cheer up! We’re going to a prom do-over! It’s going to be amazing.”

“I hope so,” Kurt said.

When Puck opened the door to Blaine and Kurt he had two cups in his hands, filled with blue liquid stinking of rum, and offered one to each of them. “Try this,” he said. “Everyone else has already had 5.”

The party was sort of like a prom, at first. There was at least an attempt at dancing in the beginning. Thanks to the safety of their friends and the blue drinks, Blaine and Kurt were far bolder in their dance moves and proximity to one another than they’d been at the real prom. Sam and Mercedes danced together, Finn and Rachel danced together, Puck tried to dance between Brittany and Santana. Artie tried to designate himself as DJ but everyone tried forcing their musical tastes on him, and he gave in periodically. Everyone was having a good time.

“I really, really missed you,” Blaine told Kurt while they danced close. “I hate not being able to see you all weekend.”

“It has to be that way, as long as we’re still in high school. But next year, I’ll have my own place.”

“In New York,” Blaine said. “And I’ll see you even less than every weekend.”

“I guess, but in _two_ years, you’ll join me, and—”

“Not making me feel any better,” Blaine interrupted him.

“Blaine!” Puck yelled. “You’re up!”

“What did I do?” Blaine frowned.

“We’re having a drink off,” Finn said.

“Shot contest!” Puck yelled. “Blaine versus Finn. First to puke has to pay for the pizza.”

“No!” Kurt and Rachel both yelled.

“Okay,” Blaine shrugged.

“Bottom’s up,” Finn said, and they clinked their mismatched shot glasses together.

“We are not actually allowing this to happen,” Rachel said to Kurt.

“Maybe we’ll let them drink a little bit, make them _think_ they’re being really cool, but stop it before it gets out of hand,” Kurt said.

“Okay,” she agreed. “Okay stop now!”

Finn squinted at her. “That was only one.”

“How many does it take before it gets out of hand?” she whispered to Kurt.

“I don’t know… like…” Kurt thought about it as they did two, and three. “Five?”

“That sounds insane,” she said. “Okay, stop!”

“No,” Finn and Blaine said together.

“There was a guy on Court TV who drank and drove and killed a kid, and he had 12 shots, so isn’t five good?” Kurt asked her. That was the extent of his real life experience.

“No, they’re going to die if they drink five,” she said quietly to him, and then yelled to Finn and Blaine, “You’re going to die!”

“I am on a ridiculous amount of medication,” Blaine admitted, knocking back another. “I’m quitting.”

“Blaine loses! Finn is the champion!” Puck yelled, and held Finn’s hand up in victory. “It shouldn’t matter to you anyway, you’re a millionaire,” he said to Blaine. “You should always buy our pizza.”

“Ha, ha,” Blaine said, and gave him a twenty.

“Do you _see_ how many people are here?”

“That’s all the cash I have on me.”

“Credit cards?”

Blaine rolled his eyes and handed him one. “Fine. Let me know when it gets here.”

Puck grinned and went upstairs to order.

Rachel fanned Finn’s face with her hands, like that was going to make him tolerate alcohol easier. Kurt grabbed Blaine’s wrist and pulled him close. “Should you even be drinking at all?” he asked. He was furious with himself for not considering all of the pills Blaine took on a daily basis.

“I’m fine,” Blaine smiled and kissed him.

“Oh God,” Kurt coughed. “You taste like a liquor store.”

When the pizza eventually arrived Blaine and Finn were just starting to act a little stranger than everyone else. Blaine did a solo dance across the entire house that ended at Puck’s front door to sign the receipt for the delivery guy, and Finn kept talking nonsense really loudly. It seemed to make sense to him, and seemed to have something to do with the meaning of life.

Finn was in the middle of a soliloquy and his third piece of pizza, when he interrupted himself and said, “Rachel, this party is so much better than yours was.”

Puck and Blaine nodded in agreement. Kurt grabbed Blaine’s head to physically stop it from moving before Rachel noticed. Luckily, she didn’t see them. She was busy staring at Finn, her mouth open in shock. She waited for him to say something else, like he didn’t really mean it the way it came out, but he just kept eating, so she stood up and left in a huff.

Kurt sighed and stood. “Fine, I’ll go clean up your mess, Finn.”

Finn blinked. “What? What did I do?”

He didn’t answer him. He chased after Rachel and found her down a dark hallway that led to a bedroom. She was already fully in tears.

Kurt sat next to her on the floor. “Rachel,” he cooed, and put his arm around her shoulders. “He’s so stupid, and drunk. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He already doesn’t remember saying it. You have to ignore him.”

She shook her head and sniffed wetly. “It’s not just that. He’s been so weird lately. I think he wants to break up with me.”

“What?” Kurt was shocked. He had no idea she felt that way, and he was pretty sure Finn had no idea, either. “No he doesn’t!”

“He keeps talking about you and Blaine. About soulmates. I think he wants to find his, and dump me.”

“That’s ridiculous, Rachel! He never talks about it, ever. Every time someone else brings it up, he yells at them and leaves the room.”

“Yeah, and then he comes to me and talks to _me_ about it.”

“Well, isn’t that a good thing? If he’s confiding in you…”

“He’s confiding in me, basically, that he doesn’t think we have a future together because I’m not his soulmate. That’s not comforting, Kurt.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Finn asked, stumbling into the hallway. “Blaine told me to come find you, but I don’t know why.”

Rachel glared up at him. “About you and how you want to break up with me.”

“I don’t want to break up with you,” he said, but not very convincingly.

“Finn!” Kurt yelled. “I can’t believe you! You can’t just throw Rachel away because you want to find some random person whose name you don’t even know. If it’s supposed to happen, it will, but you can’t hurt people who love you now because of a stranger!”

Finn looked completely lost. “What are you talking about?”

“Soulmates!” Kurt and Rachel yelled at him.

Finn shook his head, trying to comprehend everything. He looked at Rachel and pointed at Kurt. “What did you tell him?”

“What? I told him you’ve been talking to me about your soulmate.”

“But you didn’t _tell him_ , did you?” Finn asked, a little desperate.

“Tell him what?!”

“That my soulmate’s name is a guy’s!”

They stared at him for a long time, and then yelled, “ _What?!_ ” together.

“ _I_ didn’t even know that!” Rachel said. “How could I tell Kurt?”

“I thought you didn’t know her… his name!” Kurt said.

Finn put his hands up to his face and pressed his fingers against eyes. He mumbled something to himself that Kurt and Rachel couldn’t hear. Then he sighed, dropped his hands, and said, “I’m going home.”

“You can’t drive!” Kurt and Rachel yelled, and jumped to their feet to follow him.

Halfway to the door Brittany grabbed Kurt by the sleeve. “Kurt, where’s Blaine?”

Kurt sighed. He really did not have time for this. “Why, isn’t he out here with everyone else?”

“No,” she said.

“Maybe he’s in the bathroom.”

“Will you go check?” she asked.

He stopped and looked at her. She was so sincere, so genuinely worried about Blaine, even more than Kurt was. In the commotion Kurt had almost forgotten that he should have been watching him, to make sure he didn’t get sick, or to help him if he did. “Okay,” Kurt said, a little nervous now.

“I’m afraid something’s wrong with him,” she said finally, and bounced away to dance some more.

Kurt stuck his head out the front door in time to see Rachel in her car, with Finn in the passenger seat, pulling out of Puck’s driveway. He quickly waved at her and then ran to the bathroom. The door was closed. He knocked.

“Blaine?”

No answer. Despite all logic his heart began to race. For a fleeting moment he wondered if something really bad had happened to Blaine. But he knew nothing had. He _knew_ it. The last time something bad happened to Blaine, Kurt was instantly sick, like his soul and body knew Blaine wasn’t okay even before he met him. It would have to be the same again.

Unless… unless there was a delayed reaction. Blaine was in the hospital for almost two months before he called Kurt. Kurt had only been sick for three weeks.

When he realized this his heart seemed to stop. It wasn’t until then that he knew something _was_ wrong with Blaine. Blaine was not okay.


	14. Chapter 14

The rest of the night passed in a blur. Later Kurt could only remember bits and pieces of it, and only knew one thing for sure: it was the longest, worst night of his life.

Blaine was collapsed, unconscious, on the bathroom floor. First Kurt yelled for someone to call 911, but no one heard him over the music Artie was blasting. Then he thought maybe Blaine just passed out, like a regular drunk person, and could be woken up. So Kurt yelled at him, and shook him, and squeezed his hand, and screamed in his ear, but nothing happened. Then, without knowing how, he managed to throw Blaine’s limp arms over his shoulders and picked him up, and carried him out to the living room. Everyone stopped dancing to stare, and Artie finally turned the music off, so the whole room fell silent.

“Someone, call 911,” he choked out, his voice almost gone from yelling.

Mercedes already had her phone out, so she called. When the ambulance arrived she wanted to go with them, but only one person was allowed to ride with Blaine, so she followed them in her car.

Kurt didn’t want to let go of Blaine, ever, but the paramedics pulled him away and threw him on a stretcher and Kurt could hardly get a good look at him after that, much less touch him.

When they arrived at the hospital they rushed him into a room that Kurt wasn’t allowed to enter, so he had to sit with Mercedes in the waiting room.

First they sat without moving or speaking. Kurt stared into space. He was supposed to be filling out paperwork on a clipboard, he was supposed to give the nurse Blaine’s parents’ phone number, but he couldn’t move.

The nurse kept giving him impatient looks from across the lobby, and finally she took a seat across from him. “Hon, we really need to tell this boy’s parents their son is in the hospital. You know his home phone number, don’t you?”

Kurt still couldn’t move. He wanted to tell her the number, but it was like his throat had closed up.

Mercedes took it upon herself to lean into Kurt and pull his phone from his pocket. She pressed a few buttons and then held it in front of his eyes. “Is that it?” she asked.

He nodded, moving his head a fraction of an inch, and Mercedes read it out to the nurse.

“And what’s his name, hon?” the nurse asked.

“It’s Blaine Anderson,” Mercedes said.

“How old is he?”

“16,” she said. “No… he’s 17 now.”

“Do you know if he’s on any medication?”

Kurt broke a little at that, he slumped forward and put his hands to his face.

“Yeah… I think he’s on a lot,” Mercedes said.

“Do you know which ones?”

She shook her head. “No… do you, Kurt?”

He shook his head from behind his hands.

“It’s okay, I’ll ask his parents. Sit tight,” the nurse said, and went back to the desk.

A couple of minutes later a doctor emerged from Blaine’s room. Kurt jumped up, ready to hear any good news, or to vehemently deny any bad news. 

“Is he okay?” Kurt asked, when the doctor didn’t seem to want to say anything first.

“I can’t tell you much,” he said. “You’re not related, and you’re both underage. I can’t tell you anything before I tell his family.”

“But is he okay?” Kurt asked again. The least he could do would be to tell him if Blaine was alive… or not.

The doctor made a series of uncomfortable faces and finally said, “He’s in critical, stable condition.”

“So he’s okay? He’s okay, Kurt!” Mercedes said behind him.

“But critical?” Kurt asked.

“But stable!” Mercedes said.

“What does that mean?” Kurt asked the doctor.

“I can’t tell you anything else,” he replied, and began to walk away. Not back to Blaine’s room, but towards the front doors of the E.R. that led to the parking lot.

“Where are you going?” Kurt asked, a little ruder than he would ordinarily be to strangers, because of stress.

“My shift is over. He’s being transfered, and there are plenty of nurses to watch him overnight.”

“Transfered?” Kurt spun around in time to see nurses pushing Blaine, asleep in bed, down a hallway. He ran after them, forgetting the doctor, and Mercedes ran after him.

While Kurt argued with the nurses, who still wouldn’t let him see Blaine or go into his new room, Mercedes called Burt with Kurt’s phone. It was a short conversation; Burt didn’t need much information to know he needed to meet his son at the hospital, even if Kurt wasn’t the patient.

Kurt heard the tail end of Mercedes’ call to Burt. He’d been avoiding calling his father because he thought he might make him go home, and he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. But he couldn’t deny he wanted Burt to be there. He took his phone back from Mercedes when she hung up and dialed someone else completely.

It only rang once. “What happened?”

“Cooper,” Kurt sobbed, and dropped into a chair, gripping the plastic arm of it. All he wanted was for this to be like last time, for Cooper to convince the doctors and nurses to let Kurt see Blaine, for him to be so sure that Kurt could save him. “It’s all my fault,” he cried.

“Calm down, Kurt, and tell me what happened. Is Blaine okay?”

With gasping breaths Kurt explained the party and the stupid drinking contest, and how it probably reacted with Blaine’s medication, and how now Blaine wouldn’t wake up. “I should have known. I should have been thinking.”

“It’s not your fault. Blaine knew, and he can make his own decisions. He’s young, and he made a stupid one. Do my parents know?”

“Yes, and they’re on their way here. The doctors and nurses won’t let me see him, Cooper, and when your parents get here I’ll probably never see him again.” The gravity of his words hit him after he said them. What if Blaine died, that very night, and Kurt never got to see him again? He felt dizzy suddenly, like the whole room lurched and spun.

“Let me talk to one of his nurses,” Cooper said.

Kurt managed to wobble to the desk and said Blaine’s brother wanted to speak to her. She looked annoyed, but she took it.

Kurt waited impatiently, hoping that Cooper was working his magic.

“Yes?” the woman said into the phone. “No. No. No.” Then she looked up at Kurt. “Really? But… No, I… But…” she sighed and handed the phone back. “You have five minutes.”

Kurt gasped and put the phone to his ear. “Really?”

“I told her you’re his soulmate and you’re going to save his life,” Cooper said.

“I’m going right now, before anyone else gets here,” Kurt said, and practically tripped over his own feet to get to the door.

“I’ll fly out tomorrow. Don’t worry, he’ll be okay.”

Kurt hung up and burst into Blaine’s room. “Five minutes!” the nurse yelled again before he shut the door.

Blaine was sleeping in the bed, on his back, hooked up to machines and IVs just as he’d been the first time Kurt saw him. Except this time there was a darkening bruise on his forehead, from when he fell to the bathroom floor. Kurt wondered how stupid he could possibly be. He’d just made such a big deal about Blaine’s head being hurt, and now he’d basically let him hit it again.

No one had the time to bring chairs in for visitors yet, but Kurt didn’t care. He didn’t want to sit next to Blaine’s bed. He wanted to be in the bed with him, to be that close to him and hold him.

He took off his shoes and climbed up, knowing if a nurse or doctor found him doing it he’d probably be banned from the hospital for life. He put an arm around Blaine’s waist and pulled himself up close.

“I’m so sorry, Blaine,” he whispered. “I would try to kiss you awake this time like Sleeping Beauty, but I don’t think I deserve to kiss you ever again. When you wake up, which you _will_ , and _soon_ , you’re going to be so mad at me. And disappointed in me. But it’s okay, because I’m mad and disappointed in myself. All we were supposed to do was be there for each other, right? And I wasn’t. It didn’t even take me six months to screw it up. I’m not stupid enough to think I need to constantly be with you and make all your decisions for you, or stalk you in order to take care of you. I just should have known better, this time. I hate myself for not stopping you, and not watching you afterward. I hate that I even brought you to that party. We could have spent the weekend at my house again. Alone, mostly. We could have been safe in my bed right now. Awake, and happy.”

He heard the raised voices of men outside the door. They weren’t yelling, but they were loud and agitated. Slowly Kurt realized it was Burt and Blaine’s father, arguing about something. Probably Kurt. Almost certainly Kurt.

“I have to go,” he whispered, and that made him sadder than almost anything else. “Your dad won’t let me stay. But I’ll come back, every single day, until you get out of here. If your dad won’t let me see you at all, I’ll be in the waiting room, or sitting outside your window. Even if they put you on the top floor I’ll be out there, trying to let you know somehow that you’re not alone.”

He waited, hoping that Blaine would move a little, or squeeze his hand, or try to open his eyes, anything he’d done before. But nothing happened. He didn’t give any sign he knew Kurt was there at all. And that had never happened before.

Kurt rolled off the bed and put his shoes back on before anyone opened the door. He told Blaine he loved him, and went back into the waiting room.

Burt and Blaine’s father weren’t yelling anymore. In fact, they were speaking weirdly cordially. Carole and Mercedes ran up to him when they saw him, and put their arms around his waist, as though he looked like he might be having trouble standing. Finn was there, too, but he looked pretty out of it, curled in on himself in a chair. He was next to a women who looked like she was trying to avoid eye contact with everyone. Kurt assumed she was Blaine’s mother.

Burt and Blaine’s father both turned to look at Kurt. He felt awful and completely guilty, like both of them were waiting for him to explain, with good reason, why he had practically just killed Blaine. But he didn’t know what to say.

Instead, surprisingly, Blaine’s father spoke first. “Kurt,” he said, and sighed like he didn’t want to say what he was about to say. “No matter what happens, I would like to see you tomorrow. My son, Cooper, is vehement that you… have a way with Blaine. I’m not willing to ignore anything that might help him get better. I’d like you to come back and visit him as often as you’d like.”

Kurt felt like he was going to burst into tears. What on earth had Burt said to him? The man was like a different person. Or maybe he had a change of heart because this time Blaine seemed much worse, more fragile, and he was scared like he wasn’t before.

“But tonight I’d like for my family to be alone.” Blaine’s father gave a fleeting look at Mercedes, Burt, Carole, and Finn.

Kurt was heartbroken. He felt like he should be part of Blaine’s family. But he just nodded, and managed to choke out, “I understand.”

Carole and Mercedes gently led him away, to the doors, to the car, and away from the hospital without another word. Mercedes took her own car home and promised Kurt she’d answer her phone any time the next few days, if anything happened, or if he needed to talk.

The car ride home was silent. Carole let Kurt sit in the front seat next to Burt, but he didn’t know what to say. He only made it into the front door of their house before he broke down and hugged Burt, and cried his heart out for so long he lost track of time. When he finally ran out of tears Burt kissed the top of his head and said he’d stay with Kurt all night, if he wanted, but Kurt shook his head. He wanted to be alone.

He intended to sit on the couch in the dark and watch TV all night. The more mind numbing, the better. He didn’t even entertain the idea of trying to go to sleep. He kept his phone by his leg, hoping Cooper wouldn’t have to call him.

After an hour, he heard shuffling in the kitchen. A minute later Finn came out with two sandwiches on plates. He handed one to Kurt and sat next to him. He hadn’t said a word to Kurt since the party, even though he’d been there all along.

“I’m sorry,” he said first, picking at the crust of his bread.

Kurt wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for, or why, or what he should say in return. So he said instead, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“No one knows about it. Only me and my mom. And now you and Rachel. I just thought… you’d make fun of me.”

Kurt glared at him. “Me? Make fun of you?”

“Not… not for being gay, or whatever. For hiding it for so long. I mean, for pretending to be something I’m not.”

“I don’t think you’re pretending anything. This is the real you. You were the real you yesterday, before I knew, and you’re still him.”

Finn didn’t say anything. He kept his eyes on his plate.

“This doesn’t mean you aren’t allowed to like football, or cars, or girls, or anything. I believe you really love Rachel. And that you genuinely want to sleep with most of the girls at school. And that’s fine. It’s also fine to meet a boy and fall in love with him—”

“But I don’t _want_ to,” Finn protested. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“But it might not happen for a long time, it might not ever happen. More people never find their soulmates. It’s not likely at all. We’re the minority.”

“Except for my mom, my stepdad, and my brother. The majority of my family have theirs.”

“Well, wouldn’t it be nice to meet someone so amazing that he makes you change your mind? Question everything you ever thought? Like, a life altering romance?”

Finn frowned and blinked at the TV in thought. “No.”

Kurt rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“It does feel better not to have to lie to you about it anymore,” Finn said. “But what am I going to do about Rachel?”

“Do you still want to be with her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“Then you should just be honest with her. Maybe talking about it with her will help you figure it out.”

Finn sighed. “Do you feel sick? You know, because of Blaine? Like last time?”

Kurt shook his head. “No, not other than being sick with misery because of what happened.”

“Do you think you’d know it if… if something really bad happened?”

“I hope so. I don’t want want to be the last to know. I shouldn’t be the last to know.”

“No,” Finn said. “You shouldn’t.”

They stayed on the couch together all night. After a while they got so tired they stopped talking. They both fell asleep on their respective sides of the couch at some point. Kurt jumped awake when a new text message beeped from his phone. The sun was up. The night had passed.

The text was from Cooper. “He’s okay,” it said. “Thank you.”


	15. Chapter 15

Kurt’s hands shook as he rode the elevator to Blaine’s floor. He’d just driven two hours alone, all the way to Columbus, back to the hospital he first saw him in. His parents had transfered him back there when he was stable enough to be moved, back to his specialist doctors who were familiar with his case. That was good in theory, but it meant Kurt couldn’t visit every single day, as he’d done for the two weeks Blaine was in the Lima hospital.

So instead he’d left text messages and voicemail for Blaine every single day, even though Blaine couldn’t read or hear them while he slept. It didn’t matter to Kurt. He could see them when he woke up. Every day Kurt left a more ridiculous and slightly more embarrassing message, falling into the old habit of being completely candid when one did not expect a reply. But that day, finally, a reply came.

Kurt woke up to one new voicemail, which was ridiculous because he’d had his phone on the loudest ring setting for a month. Somehow, he managed to sleep through it. The message was scratchy, but a sleepy-voiced Blaine left it. He said simply, “I haven’t seen you in a while. Want to drive me home tomorrow? Don’t call back. I only want to talk to you in real life.”

So Kurt bounced around the elevator until it finally stopped and released him. He half ran to Blaine’s room but had to stop short when Blaine wheeled himself out in a wheelchair, sunglasses on, one leg crossed over the other, in his regular clothes, and made a “ta-da!” gesture with his arms.

Kurt let out a yelp of jumbled words and jumped into his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck.

“Hey,” a nurse pretended to scold them. She was familiar with Kurt and their story, and was happy to see them reunited. “We already aren’t sure if he should leave so soon after waking up. Don’t make us change our minds. You have to be gentle with him.”

“Sorry!” Kurt said, and tried to get up, but Blaine held him tight. “Are you sure you should be leaving?” he asked Blaine. “If the doctors want you to stay—”

“It’s fine, I promise,” Blaine said. “I’ll be in bed all day for another month, and I won’t do anything but catch up on homework. I refuse to be held back a year in school. Then I’d have to wait two years before I could be with you in New York.”

Kurt gulped and decided not to say anything, just then, about how he was reconsidering New York in favor of staying close to Blaine. It wasn’t something they needed to talk about right that second. They had another year left of high school, and, it seemed, all the time in the world.

“Okay, wheel me out of here. I need to breathe real air,” Blaine said, and let go of Kurt. When Kurt wheeled him past the desk in the waiting room he grinned and asked the nurse, “I can keep this chair, right?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, Blaine, you can’t keep it.”

Kurt helped him into the passenger seat of his car, and Blaine used it as an excuse to pull Kurt in for a slow kiss.

Kurt smiled when they parted. “I guess this means you’re not mad at me.”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“Because I almost killed you.”

“Oh, that,” Blaine said, and then laughed and pushed him on the shoulder. “No, you didn’t have anything to do with it. Let’s just say we learned a valuable lesson the hard way. I need to take better care of myself. I need to be healthier, and make better decisions.”

“But I could have said or done _something_ ,” Kurt insisted.

Blaine took Kurt’s hand and pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head to look seriously at him. “I love you, and I don’t blame you.”

“I love you, too, but I blame myself,” Kurt said.

“Well, give me time, and I’ll change your mind. Now, go take my wheelchair back, adorable servant. Then we’re going to your house.”

“You mean _your_ house,” Kurt said as he spun the empty wheelchair toward the hospital doors.

“No, I mean your house. You’re my tutor all summer. I told you have I to catch up. You get good grades, right?”

Kurt grabbed Blaine’s sunglasses and put them on to look extra cool when he answered, with a mischievous grin, “Does it matter?”

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel: http://archiveofourown.org/works/574924


End file.
